Nightshade
by silver-footsteps
Summary: She said, "Tag. You're it." So he ran like a fool after a woman who wouldn't turn back. 10 years have passed since they've parted ways and Gaara is searching for someone who claims not to exist anymore. Sequel to Black Widow and the Sandman. AU. Gaasaku. [HIATUS]
1. Prelude

Yes, you guessed it. This is the long-awaited sequel to Black Widow and the Sandman. I honestly wasn't planning on publishing this intro yet, but after a lot of begging from readers, I've decided to post it. To be honest, I don't have much of this story typed up right now. But I think that since I've been rather stuck trying to write Entropy, I think I'll probably take this up as my side project while I finish up FF. And for every reader who's gotten used to the lovable, cute Sakura from FF, I'm sorry, but bitchy, inner-turmoil-laden Sakura is back.

Enjoy!

* * *

Nightshade

Prelude

"Hime, are you alright?"

_They say that it's impossible to love someone else if you don't love yourself first. I guess that does make sense in a way. But at the same time, people also say that you can only love as much as you hate. It makes me wonder if a person like me is capable of feeling at all. _

_Everything is just so… colorless. It's like I'm watching everything from behind a foggy window, listening to vague mumbles that don't really mean much to me. Sometimes, I sit alone and I feel like I'm sinking into a bottomless pit or that everything around me is slipping out from under me. Sometimes, I feel like the life that I'm living or the body I'm moving isn't mine. But whenever I look in the mirror, I never feel any different about the gaunt, twisted face that looks back at me. It doesn't matter how much Itachi assures me that I'm perfect or how much my followers grovel at my feet._

_It feels like I'm always screaming silently, no matter what I do._

_Someone please hear me._

"I'm fine."

* * *

Sabaku no Gaara paused just outside a club, feeling the bass thrum through the ground as he dug in the front pocket of his jacket. His fingers closed around a battered cigarette just as the door was flung open, smashing against the wall. The red-head looked over his shoulder and watched his irate partner storm out of the building.

"Nothing," Uchiha Sasuke spat as he strode over.

Gaara snorted as he cupped his hand around his lighter to shield it from an icy gust of wind. Smoke curled into the hazy air as the paper sizzled. He clenched the cigarette between his teeth as he pocketed his lighter and sucked in a deep breath that bit at the inside of his lungs. The air stank of cheap booze, urine and garbage, making his insides twist into knots. Gaara let a lazy stream of smoke snake out of the corner of his mouth as he turned to Sasuke.

"Nothing?" Gaara repeated.

"Nothing," Sasuke growled in response. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, muttering darkly to himself. Another frozen burst of air swept through the street, sending old garbage flying over the sidewalk. Gaara kicked a stray cup aside and glanced over at Sasuke.

"Then there's only one place left to check," he concluded. Sasuke grunted his assent. Without another word, they took off down the gusty street, their shoulders stiff from the cold. Gaara's cigarette battled valiantly against the weather until it sputtered out. Gaara spat it onto the street, grinding it under his heel as he walked past.

The city was screaming out. The howling wind raced through the streets, overturning garbage cans and whipping dead leaves into the sky. It stole through the cracks in windows, carrying out the shouts of arguing couples and the silent whimpers of their children hiding behind doors. It carried the lingered whispers of confessions of loves and the frigid words of parting. The cold wrapped around the body, coiling tighter and tighter until it burrowed straight into the soul until even the insides of the chest felt icy.

Gaara squinted down at the rumpled piece of paper held in his fingers.

"This the place?" Sasuke asked as they stopped in front of yet another nightclub. Gaara looked up at the neon hot pink letters flashing 'Spider Den' over the door. He stuffed the paper into his pocket as he nodded. Sasuke pounded on the metal door three times and took a step back as the enormous piece of steel swung open. A huge bouncer filled the doorway, glaring down at them with bloodshot eyes.

"You got any weapons?" he growled. In a flash, Sasuke's blade was out, the point just barely nicking the bouncer's grizzled cheek.

"We've been invited by some guy named Spex. Let us in," Sasuke flatly demanded. Scowling fiercely, the bouncer stepped to one side of the door to let them through. Sasuke sheathed his sword, the metallic screech swallowed by the pounding music inside. Gaara lead, since his impatient stare was usually enough to motivate people to move out of the way. The red-head stopped at the bar, cutting off a man who was in the middle of ordering a drink.

"Spex?" he demanded. The bartender silently pointed up, to the balcony above. Gaara nodded his thanks before he pushed through more people and climbed up the metal stairs. He tucked his hand inside his jacket, resting it against his gun as he scanned the small area. In a booth tucked away in a corner, a pale hand rose, motioning him forward. Sasuke lips pulled back in a sneer when they approached the table.

"Kabuto," he snorted. Gaara narrowed his eyes. He'd done enough research on Root and its followers to know that Kabuto had been responsible for the assassination of Haruno Danzo. And from the looks of the jagged scar that ran from the left side of Kabuto's mouth and up to his right cheekbone, he hadn't been forgiven. Kabuto disfigured mouth pulled up into a lopsided smile.

"I was wondering when you two would arrive," Kabuto said as he motioned for them to sit. But Sasuke stared at him, immobile.

"Haruno kicked you out years ago, Kabuto. What would you know?" Sasuke spat. Kabuto seemed unaffected by Sasuke's bitter tone.

"More importantly, Yakushi, what do you want in return?" Gaara cut in. Kabuto's glasses glinted menacingly as he leaned back in his seat.

"Sit and I'll tell you," he simply replied.

* * *

Haruno Sakura curled up on her side in front of the window, watching the icy rain batter the world outside. Her fingers curled around a smooth cigarette just as the door creaked open and yellow light spilled into the room. She peered over her shoulder and watched as a familiar silhouette quietly approached.

"We have… a situation," Uchiha Itachi began as he crouched behind her.

Sakura sighed as she held out her cigarette to him. Itachi obediently retrieved a lighter from his pocket and flicked on the flame. Smoke curled into the hazy air as the paper sizzled. She delicately balanced the cigarette between her lips and sucked in a deep breath that filled her mouth with the taste of ash. The rich smell of her French cigarettes was gone, replaced by a deep, musky scent that lingered on the tongue. Sakura let a lazy stream of smoke snake out of the corner of his mouth as she sat up.

"A situation," Sakura repeated as she ran her fingers through her short hair. She pulled her cigarette from her mouth as she blew a stream of gray smoke into the air. A ring of red lipstick stained the white paper. She turned her head to finally look Itachi fully in the face, her eyes lingering over the frosty pink lipstick stain on the collar of his shirt.

"I was at Spider Den," he explained as Sakura reached out to grasp the front of his shirt. Her fingers tightened cruelly around the fabric before they relaxed a bit. A slight frown tugged at her lips and Itachi's fingers touched her cheek in an apology. Sakura's lips twisted as she ran her finger along the tacky shade.

"What's the situation then?" she inquired, turning to look out the window again.

"It seems that they've found you," Itachi said. Sakura, who had been taking another drag from her cigarette, froze for a moment. The sound of her quiet exhale was the only thing breaking the silence. For an instant, the corner of her mouth quirked up into what resembled a smile. But it passed and the usual cold composure returned.

"Really?" Sakura simply said. After a moment of consideration, she leaned in to him and pressed her mouth against the crisp fabric of his shirt.

"Then I guess," She whispered as she got to her feet, "I should go greet our guests."

The crimson stain of her lipstick completely blotted out the pink.

* * *

_They tell you to love. They say love is the only way to save you._

_But as these black and white days blur by like the pages of an old, forgotten book being flipped too quickly, I can't help but wonder when everything became so empty. It wasn't always this way. Konan likes to tell me that it's because I have forgotten. But I know that's not true. I know I haven't forgotten. But she insists that there's something I'm missing, something I've chosen to lose._

_What have I lost?_

_Love? Is it love? Can I have lost love when I've never even truly had it before?_

_No._

_I know that's not true._

_I thought I once knew love. I'm not even sure of it anymore. But I do know that for that moment when I believed I was in love, my world was overflowing with flaming red and a bitter shade of green that pierced my soul._

_Someone tell me they love me._

* * *

Before I forget to mention this, Hime means Princess.

I know this is obscenely short, but it's just an intro so please don't plot to murder me. And review with your guesses of what's going to happen! I'm so curious to know what you think!


	2. Skin

Yup. I've hit a brick wall with Entropy so I've decided to get a headstart on this. Sorry that this chapter's a little heavy on description without much action. But things'll slip over to Sakura's perspective from now on so there will be more action-packed... action in the next chapters. School's starting up next week so I'll have a lot less time to get stuff done so enjoy this update!

* * *

Nightshade

Chapter 1: Skin

_A low roar echoed in the arena. At the raucous noise, her emerald eyes flickered up to meet the lanky boy sitting on the other side of the room. He pulled his lips back in a sneer that revealed his sharp teeth. Scoffing, she looked back down as she patiently wrapped bandages around her knuckles before sliding her black gloves on over them. She pulled at the Velcro straps, making sure the stretchy fabric fit snugly. The metal door opened with a high-pitched groan, followed by light footsteps that she immediately recognized._

"_Kabuto," she sighed, not looking up._

"_No need to sound so thrilled, Hime," Kabuto chuckled as he knelt in front of her. Sakura looked up at him with a flat stare until the smile disappeared from his face. She reached up to push her long bangs out of her eyes._

"_Speak," she tersely ordered as she leaned over to adjust the buckles of her boots. When she straightened, Kabuto was holding an unopened box of cigarettes. The blue packaging made her eyes light up as she tore the top open and fished out a pristine cigarette. She reached into the front of her snug tank top and pulled out her lighter. The room filled with the rich, smoky fragrance as she lit the tip and took a deep drag. _

"_From Itachi," Kabuto said, leaning against the wall. Sakura nodded as she let the lighter fall back into her shirt. She exhaled slowly and let the smoke leak out of the corners of her mouth. Another series of screams reached her ears and the floor rumbled from the feet of hundreds of spectators. With a smirk, she rubbed at the back of her neck. _

"_WINNER! THUNDERFIST! NEXT UP! THE BLACK WIDOW VERSUS AQUARIUS!" the announcer's voice blared through the speakers set up in the corner of the room. The crowd exploded with approval. Sakura smoothly got to her feet as she cracked her knuckles. Her opponent also stood, shooting another leer her way. His gaze lingered over parts of her body too long for it to be polite. _

"_Ready to scream, babe?" he growled with a sickening grin. Sakura arched an eyebrow as she ran her tongue over her white teeth. A feral smile stretched her mouth as she strode out of the room and down the narrow hallway that led into the arena. She went blind for a moment when she emerged. The blaring white lights from above were piercing enough to make her eyes water. She wiped her forearm across her eyes before she pressed her palms flat on the edge of the raised ring and did a smooth back flip over the ropes. A few people in the crowd screamed her name, wildly waving whatever flag or sign they held in their hands. _

"_Be sure not to bloody this one up too bad, kid," the referee muttered to her as he climbed down from the ring. She looked over her shoulder to shoot him a sinister glare. And then, without warning, the crowd's chatter died down as her opponent climbed into the ring. He squared off across from her, his white hands balled into tight fists. They stared at each other; and for an instant, she saw his pale eyes glint with uncertainty. _

_That was all she needed._

_As soon as the referee rang the bell, she flickered forward and rammed her fist into his jaw. Saliva and blood spurted from his mouth as he reeled backwards, landing heavily on the ropes. She took a step back, cocking her head to the side._

"_Let's see who's the one screaming," she sneered as her opponent dragged his hand across his broken nose. A ragged shout escaped his mouth as he launched himself forward, fists swinging wildly. She easily dodged his sloppy moves as she fluidly moved around the small ring. When he drew his hand back for a particularly hard punch, she slipped under his outstretched arms, her chest sliding against his. His eyes widened as he froze._

"_Don't leave so many openings, __**babe**__. It makes it too easy for me," she whispered with a coy smile before her knee slammed into his crotch. Before a sound could escape him, she swung her fist into his stomach, sending him sprawling. A deafening roar of approval rose from the crowd as she turned to wave at them. _

"_YOU BITCH!" her opponent shouted. As Sakura turned, she saw him scrambling to his feet, his hands outstretched in angry claws. A little sigh left her as she knocked her hand into his forearm, easily deflecting his blow. But to her surprise, she saw his fingers reaching into the side of his pants, accompanied by the bright glint of metal. Before she could react, his hand rose high into the air before plunging the blade straight into the left side of her chest. A sharp wheeze escaped her lungs as the lights above seemed to blur together. Her fingers clawed at empty air as she felt herself falling, landing hard on the floor. And Inner Sakura suddenly vanished, retreating back into the corners of their shared mind. Sakura awoke to an inescapable agony that seemed to burn all of her nerves. _

_Angry boos and hisses were hurled from the audience as Sakura's nails scraped across the ground. Blinding agony seared through her chest as she felt her hot blood soak through her shirt. The metallic scent of her blood filled the air, making her stomach twist into knots. She could see him hovering over her, red blade still clenched in his right hand. _

_But she wasn't afraid._

_Weapons were a breach of protocol that nullified the match. That meant that it was no longer forbidden from spectators to interfere. The furious surge of killing intent that exploded out of nowhere didn't frighten her. In fact, it was a relief to feel the oppressive chakra wash over her. Her opponent's eyes narrowed as he raised the knife again. But before he could take another step, a dark shape appeared in front of him. Itachi's eyes blazed as the back of his hand struck the boy's face. A loud crack resounded through the arena as he was sent flying out of the ring. _

"_Nii-san," Sakura whispered as she struggled to reach out for him. His eyes were still a frightening shade of crimson as he knelt beside her. Hot tears burned down her cheeks as bile rose in her throat. She coughed and she tasted metal in her mouth._

"_You're done with this," he ordered in a tone that left no room for argument. Before she could respond, he slid his arms under her and carefully lifted her. A soft whimper left her as she weakly twisted her fingers in the front of his white shirt. Her blood smeared dark burgundy across the fabric as his chakra swirled around them in dark waves of barely controlled rage. As her eyes drifted shut, she felt his arms tighten around her._

"_We're taking her to the ER," she heard Itachi order someone. The sounds of the angry crowd began to fade and she missed the blazing warmth of the lights. There were whispers, fleeting footsteps. The sound of a car pulling up and then a door opening. _

"_The fuck-" she heard Hidan begin. _

"_Later," Itachi cut in, his voice unnaturally sharp. A high-pitched gasp of pain escaped Sakura as she was transferred into someone else's arms. The movement sent shockwaves of pain rolling through her chest again. _

"_Fuck! Sorry, Hime," Hidan hissed as he lowered her onto the back seat of the car. _

"_Hidan," Sakura ground out, her hand shooting out to grab his shirt. The scent of his heavy cologne washed over her like an old friend. He was breathing heavily, hands shaking just a little as he took her hands._

"_Find that fucker and have Itachi kill him," she whispered, letting her hands fall to her sides. A loud snort came from the front seat as the back door slammed shut._

"_She's fine if she's plotting to kill already, Itachi," Kisame said without humor. And Itachi's voice from the passenger's side was anything but fine._

"_I'll skin him," Itachi quietly said with malice that made her skin crawl. But for some reason, it filled her with a sense of satisfaction that almost overruled the tearing pain in her chest._

"_Good," she spat as she clenched her fingers into the front of her shirt._

* * *

The door slowly opened with a high-pitched creak. The metallic stench of blood hung in the air like a thick perfume. His quiet footsteps dodged the shards of broken mirror strewn across the floor.

"Get out," she whispered into the darkness. He took a step back to nudge the door open further. As the soft yellow light fell across her hunched over on the floor, he clenched his teeth. Her palms glistened, sticky with a dark liquid that made his insides churn. Bloody marks trailed down her pale cheeks like tears. She glanced up at him through her hair, eyes vacant.

"Sakura," he simply sighed as he crouched beside her. Despite the colder weather, she was dressed in only a thin white dress that left her arms and shoulders exposed. She didn't react at all when he took her hands into his. Jagged shards of glass protruded from her skin. As he watched, thick, dark blood trickled down her fingers and pooled on the floor.

"Itachi," she quietly said, not looking at him. Instead, her blank stare was focused on the now empty mirror frame where there should have been her reflection. Still, she stared intently like she could see herself.

"Am I ugly?" she inquired as she reached out and dragged her fingers down the wood, leaving bright red streaks. A single tear cut through the drying blood on her left cheek as it gracefully dripped off her chin.

"Itachi," she said in a near-whisper.

"Heal your hands, Sakura," Itachi gently interrupted as he looked down at her bloodied skin. His fingers closed around a particularly large chunk of glittering glass that had wedged itself tightly into her palm. But she flinched away from him as her warm chakra tingled through her skin. A soft green glow enveloped her raw and abused skin. And as fresh pink skin welled up around the deep gouges and scratches, the glass was neatly forced out. As the still-wet chunks of mirror rained onto the floor, Sakura finally looked up to meet his eyes.

"Itachi, am I ugly?" she demanded again. Her newly healed hands, still dripping with dark blood, rose to touch her own cheeks, like she was trying to confirm that her face was still there. Ignoring the squelch of her blood as he firmly grasped her hands in his, Itachi leaned over to press his forehead against hers.

"No. You're beautiful," he assured her.

"Say that again."

"You're beautiful, Sakura," Itachi repeated as he wrapped his arms around her. Her warm hands were talons that fisted into the front of his shirt.

"Again," she demanded in no more than a whisper.

"You're beautiful," Itachi obliged and a heavy sigh left her. Very slowly, she tilted her head to look up at him. And her eyes, still frighteningly empty, scanned his face very intently. A hollow smile touched her lips as she reached up to loop her arms around his neck.

"Tell me that I'm beautiful again," she ordered as she pressed against him to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"You're beautiful. You're beautiful," Itachi murmured over and over again as she slowly planted fleeting kisses along his jaw line. When she reached his ear, she took in a sharp breath, like she was about to scream. He could feel her soft lips stretch up into a smile.

"Liar," she giggled. He froze as her sticky fingers traveled across the back of his neck, sliding down to curl loosely around his throat. Her breathy laugh washed over the side of his face as her fingers caressed almost tenderly against his neck.

"Lie to me again, Itachi. Lie and lie and lie until I forget that you're lying," she whispered as she climbed into his lap. The hem of her dress rode up, exposing her nail marks on her upper thighs where she had dug into her own skin. His eyes flickered down to her legs for a moment before they returned to her face. Despite her confident tone, he could still see the insecurity wavering in her gaze. Itachi leaned in to press a chaste kiss to her exposed shoulder.

"I lie to everyone but you, Sakura. You're beautiful," he promised her, leaving no room for argument.

Sakura threw her head back and laughed. It was a bitter, unyielding noise that made his head throb.

* * *

"I'm going rip off that bastard's nose," Gaara flatly said as they stopped in front of a bland grey building. It seemed to sink into the dreary background. It was wedged between two buildings equipped with flashing signs and loud music. Had he not been looking at the address Kabuto had given them, Gaara would have walked right past it without noticing it existed at all. But when Sasuke chuckled, Gaara began to wonder what was lurking under its nondescript exterior.

"She's here," Sasuke whispered as his irises flushed red. The three black tomoe spun wildly as Sasuke stared intently at a random spot on the sidewalk. After a moment, Sasuke looked back up at Gaara and let the crimson fade to its original black.

"How many?" Gaara demanded seeing the deep furrow in Sasuke's brow. He sucked in a frigid breath through his teeth as he shook the last cigarette from its battered box that had been in his pocket.

"I couldn't get a count. Maybe 20? There're definitely more hiding," Sasuke quickly said as he reached across his body. The quiet metallic scrape assured him that kusanagi was safely in place. Without warning, Sasuke's head jerked up, the sharingan blooming in an instant. His wide-eyed gaze locked on a dark window on the second floor of the building. Gaara followed and saw just the faintest flicker of movement.

"Fuck. My brother's seen us," Sasuke spat, looking back at his partner. But Gaara scoffed as he wedged the cigarette between his lips and snapped his lighter open.

"They've probably known about us from the moment we stepped foot in this city. They say she's got eyes and ears everywhere," Gaara snorted as he watched the little orange flame swallow the paper. He took a deep breath of frosty air and let the smoke trickle out through his nostrils. The bitter taste of ash clung to the inside of his mouth as he glanced over at Sasuke.

"Let's go," Sasuke muttered as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and pushed past the heavy metal door. Inside, they were met with an unexpected blast of throbbing techno music.

"Good sound-proofing," Gaara said and Sasuke rolled his eyes. The inside of the club was flashing with neon lights. There was a DJ on stage happily spinning his tracks while people danced below. The bar was crowded with eager customers. The air was hazy with cigarette smoke as they pushed past strangers. As Kabuto had promised, at the far end of the club, was a glass door. As they pushed past, they were met with just a spiraling staircase made of glass inside the narrow room. Out of the shadows, emerged a face devoid of all expression. The left half was white while the right black, split as if a line had been drawn through it with a ruler. Both his eyes shone an eerie shade of gold as he looked them over.

"She's been waiting," he said after a moment. His white arm emerged and pointed down. Another arm, this one black, extended from the darkness and ran through his short green hair.

"Welcome to Elysium, gentlemen," the man politely said with a deep nod of his head. And without another sound, he melded into the wall behind him and disappeared. Sasuke and Gaara stared blankly at the smooth wall. They exchanged wary looks and Gaara reached into his jacket to touch the cool metal of his gun. Taking a deep breath, Gaara clenched his cigarette between his teeth and made his way down the staircase with Sasuke following closely behind.

Below, the pounding music was distant but still clear enough to hear. The sweet scent of incense filled the room like a rich perfume, mingling with the smells of cigarette smoke. Gaara took an experimental sniff and couldn't find the familiar fragrance that had burned itself into his memory. There was the low hum of voices and the elegant tinkle of glasses clicking together. But from the way Sasuke's eyes narrowed, Gaara knew that they had come to the right place. His heart began to pump uncomfortably fast as they travelled to the end of the hallway where a pair of sturdy wooden doors stood. Without warning, the green-haired man stepped out from the wall, casually straightening his tie like it was the most natural thing. A faint smile crossed his lips as he held the door open for them.

"Fuck," Sasuke breathed from somewhere behind him. But Gaara couldn't think.

Because sitting on a black leather sofa was a woman whose striking profile he could never forget. Her sleek hair fell into her face as she leaned over to whisper something in a man's ear. She drew back smiling in a way that made his gut twist uncomfortably. After a moment, she slowly turned her head in his direction and their gazes locked. Something about the cold curl of her lips and the tilt of her head made him want to reach out and grab her. But she didn't react with anything more than a faint lift of her eyebrows. It was as if she was challenging him again, waiting for him to put down his cards first. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Gaara sucked in another mouthful of smoke.

"Tag. You're it," he finally croaked, spitting back her parting words to him. And to his… he couldn't decide if it was relief or horror. But her lips pulled back in a smile that revealed her even, white teeth. It was only then that he realized that she was reclining very comfortably with her back pressed against a man's chest and her legs resting across another man's lap. She lifted her hand and someone immediately appeared with a glass of golden liquid.

"Well," Sakura began and all other noises in the room ceased to exist. Conversations broke off mid-syllable and even someone who had been coughing forced himself to stop. Sakura paused to take a sip of her drink.

"It's been quite a while, Sandman and Shinigami," Sakura lightly said as she nodded in Sasuke's direction. She regarded the glass in her hand for a moment before she looked up at them again.

"Have a seat," she said, gesturing to the empty sofa across from her. At this, the other people in the room exploded into hushed whispers. For the first time, Gaara noticed that there were others perched on the arms of her sofa and some leaning against the enormous fish tanks mounted inside every wall. There were silent others pressed against the walls by the doors, their dark eyes focused unblinkingly on her. Fingers pointed, eyes stared and overall, it felt like he was being brought out to be beheaded in front of a crowd. The entire room was bathed in a faint shade of blue with the watery light from the aquariums. Gaara hesitated for a moment before he crossed the room to sink into the comfortable seat offered. Sasuke lingered in the doorway for another moment, his fingers twitching towards kusanagi, before he reluctantly followed and sat stiffly on the opposite end of the couch.

The man with Sakura's legs stretched out across his lap leaned over to whisper something in her ear. His flat gaze rested on Gaara for a moment as he spoke. Sakura's celadon eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. When the man drew back, she lifted her free hand to turn his face back towards her, her fingers lightly pulling on his dark red hair. Even though she only spoke two words, so much more passed between them and it filled Gaara with a gnawing sense of anxiety.

"Make sure," she quietly said. The man nodded and Sakura shifted her legs off his lap. He got to his feet and bent to press a kiss against her temple before he wordlessly strode out of the room. As they listened to his crisp footsteps echo off the tile floor, Sakura's eyes were trained on his back. After a second, her gaze trailed off and instead matched Gaara's.

"Have you brought anyone along with you?" she inquired as she held out her glass. Someone picked it up and whisked it away, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared. Gaara sat up a little straighter at the subtle edge to her words. It was almost as if she were accusing him of something.

"No," he said. At this, there was a little ripple in the room. A low hiss of indignation rose but Sakura quelled it with a pointed look.

"Then you've done a shitty job of covering your tracks," Sakura sniffed as she looked down at her manicured nails. They waited for her to elaborate, but she was silent. After a while, she looked up expectantly, her eyes flickering towards the wall behind her. As if on cue, a face emerged from the wall just above her shoulder.

"Hime," he murmured, lowering his head in a tiny bow. Sakura's expression softened as she reached up and ran her thumb along the tiny cut on his left cheek. With the tiniest glow of chakra, she erased the line.

"Sasori's on his way. It's your favorite cockroach," he informed her. Sakura's hand fell back into her lap as a derisive snort left her. Then, she patted the vacant spot beside her as she looked up at him. He paused for a moment before he nodded and melted back into the wall. No one seemed to mind that he emerged from the other side of the room a few seconds later, like people regularly walked out of walls. With confident strides, he crossed the floor and settled on the sofa beside her.

"So, I guess I should be asking you boys if you happened to run into Yakushi Kabuto," Sakura said with a faint smile. As she spoke, she sat up and turned her body so that she was facing them. She leaned against the back of the sofa as she crossed one leg over the other. The folds of her silky cocktail dress rode up, exposing her toned legs. Gaara swallowed thickly at the sight of her smooth skin and Sasuke not-so-subtly jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. Shooting Sasuke a dirty look, Gaara forced himself to look into her eyes. They glittered, like she was laughing at him.

"He goes by Spex now. A guy named Tobi told us where to find him," Sasuke curtly interrupted, irritated by his partner's silence. Her smile evaporated as she took in his words. Her lips twisted together and the room filled with a palpable tension. A low hiss of frustration left her mouth as she glanced over at the armrest to her right. The man leaning against it was of no small stature. In fact, he towered well over the others, probably well over six feet tall. But until Sakura had looked at him, it was like he hadn't existed at all, melding in completely with the furniture.

"Zabuza. Go. Take Haku with you. Tell **him** that we need to talk," she ordered with a biting undertone to her voice. The tall man inclined his head slightly before he flickered out of sight. The other person perched on the opposite armrest also bowed before following. It was clear that the mention of Tobi's name was a bad thing because Sakura's glare didn't relax at all, even when a sharp cry of pain echoed from outside the doors. Two figures seemed to detach themselves from the shadows to pull the doors open before becoming as still as statues again. The red-head from before calmly strode in with Kabuto slung over his shoulder like a carcass.

"He struggled. And you know how I hate waiting," he flatly explained as he dropped Kabuto onto the cold floor. His glasses flew off his face, skittering across the tiles until they stopped at Sakura's feet. The red-head dragged Kabuto by the hair and deposited him in front of Sakura, dealing him a good kick to the back before perching on the recently vacated armrest to Sakura's right. A low groan escaped Kabuto as he sat up, rubbing at his swollen face. He wiped away the blood dribbling down his chin as he squinted up at Sakura. She regarded him blankly, eyes narrowing just the slightest bit.

"Oh Hime, you look lovely today," he greeted her with a pleasant simper. Sakura's limps thinned as she nudged his glasses towards him with her foot. She waited patiently for him to put them back on before she lifted her foot and jabbed the point of her shoe into his forehead. Kabuto's head jerked back and a thin stream of blood trickled from the red spot but he didn't move.

"Kabuto-kun, do you know why you're still alive?" she inquired in a silky voice. The entire room was silent as she paused. Her smile was so chilling that Gaara pushed down the desperate urge to leave the room. She had released the hold on her chakra and her very presence bore down like a physical weight on his chest and shoulders. But Kabuto's polite smile didn't falter as he brazenly (or foolishly) looked up into her face.

"To repay you for your kindness, Hime," Kabuto innocently replied. The curve of Sakura's lips intensified as she stared him down. A stifled snort came from the man sitting on Sakura's left.

"Lying son of a bitch," he growled and there were a few snickers scattered around the room.

"Your language is offensive as ever, Hidan," Kabuto said and Hidan leaned forward on his knees, a leer stretching his wide mouth. His silver hair was slicked back and the top buttons of his shirt popped open to reveal a strange silver medallion.

"Fuck you, you little cockroach. If it were up to me, you wouldn't even be breathing right now," Hidan spat.

"But it isn't, Hidan," Sakura interrupted with her icy smile. Hidan cleared his throat before he sat back, his purple eyes shooting angrily in Kabuto's direction.

"Kabuto lives as long as he remains an asset to this organization," she firmly said.

"But," Sakura quickly added and Kabuto suddenly stiffened, "If I find you spilling my information again, I'll make sure Hidan has his way." Her voice lowered to a threatening whisper and the men sitting on the sofa with her chuckled darkly.

"Escort him out please, Hidan," said Sakura. Hidan immediately sprang to his feet, eyes glittering with excitement. He bent to press a long kiss to the side of her throat, finishing by lightly nipping her ear. Sakura rolled her eyes but didn't try to stop him. A surprisingly light-hearted grin spread across Hidan's face as he lifted Kabuto by the back of his shirt and forced him to his feet. As Hidan shoved Kabuto to the door, Sakura's smile faded.

"Hidan," she called before the pair could leave. Hidan stopped, his head tilting back.

"Don't have too much fun," Sakura ordered. At first, Hidan's shoulders tensed, like he was going to protest. But after a moment, he heaved a huge sigh as he nodded. Kabuto's little whimpers echoed, growing fainter and fainter until the doors closed, blocking the noise out completely.

"I don't know why you keep him around, Hime. It's like keeping crabgrass in a garden," the mysterious wall-melding man spoke up, his upper lip curling with blatant disdain. There were a chorus of nods and murmurs from around the room. But Sakura's good mood seemed to have returned as she relaxed against the back of the sofa.

"You forget, Zetsu, that if you forget to keep an eye on even crabgrass, it'll eventually overrun the garden," Sakura countered. There were a few chuckles, but Zetsu and Hidan exchanged fleeting looks.

"**Kabuto**? Overrun us?" Zetsu demanded, his eyebrows lifting.

"Don't get cocky. Kabuto is the man who infiltrated my father's security," she reminded him.

"Sneaky little shit," Hidan grumbled out as he burst in through the doors. There was red splattered across the front of his white shirt. He looked down at it, shrugged, and buttoned up his blazer to hide most of it. Sakura's mouth curled into a frown as she surveyed him.

"I said not to have too much fun, Hidan," Sakura quietly said as Hidan collapsed leisurely onto the sofa. He put his arms up on the back of the sofa and his hand brushed her bare shoulder.

"Relax, Hime. He was still walking when I was done," he countered, ignoring her reproach. She clucked her tongue as she turned back to Gaara and Sasuke who had been all but forgotten on the sofa across from her.

"Sorry for that. But I'm going to request that you refrain from enlisting Kabuto's help in the future," Sakura politely said but the underlying steel in her voice gave them little choice.

"What'd that fucker ask for? You know, in exchange for Hime's whereabouts?" Hidan piped up. Sakura didn't seem to mind the interruption at all. In fact, her green eyes lit up with interest as they focused in on Gaara.

"He wanted me to put in a good word for him. He seemed to hope that you would eventually let him back into your inner circle," Gaara replied. A sharp roar of laughter exploded from Hidan and the redhead sitting on the armrest let out a quiet snort. An amused huff left Sakura.

"Delirious," Zetsu muttered through the noise and Sakura nodded.

"Well, I'm sure that Kabuto will keep himself out of trouble for the time being," Sakura said, clearly ending the topic and the laughter died down, "What can I do for you gentlem-?"

"My brother," Sasuke sharply cut in. Hidan bolted to his feet, lips pulling back in a snarl.

"Show some respect, you fuckhead," Hidan growled but Sakura took hold of his arm and pulled him back into his seat. She did her best not to look too amused, but Gaara caught the hint of a smile in her expression. Still bristling with fury, Hidan muttered a few extra profanities before he fell silent.

"Ah, so you remember our promise," Sakura quietly said and Sasuke's eyes narrowed. Gaara sighed. He had finally managed to wheedle the story out of him a few years back.

Ten years ago, with morphine pumping through his body and his entire left leg destroyed, Sasuke had been confined to a hospital bed. Doctors had been forced to untwist his leg, collect the shattered pieces of bone lodged into his muscles and re-align the bone before setting everything in place with plates and pins. The surgery had taken up most of a day and afterward, the pain had been so intense that even morphine couldn't completely take off the edge. So, half-delirious with pain and half-delirious with medication, Sasuke had seen his older brother walking into his hospital room. Uchiha Itachi hadn't spoken much, probably because Sasuke admitted to bursting into tears after finally meeting his brother. But all too soon, Itachi had gotten up to leave.

"_Wait. Nii-san," Sasuke croaked, feebly lifting his arm. Itachi's red eyes flickered to the door once and Sasuke sluggishly followed the motion. After a long moment, the door slid open and a shock of pink strode inside. It took a moment for his hazy vision to focus as she perched herself on the foot of the bed. Her once waist-length hair was now choppy and short, barely brushing her chin. Sakura's emerald eyes watched him with a certain sharpness that he had never seen before. Then again, after the tournament, he had realized that the girl he knew from school was nowhere near real. Her polite but distant personality was obviously hiding something much deeper. But now, she was putting on that nice but cold front again._

"_I'm not apologizing for the leg," she began, looking down at the gigantic white cast. _

"_Don't want it anyway," Sasuke mumbled and Sakura's lips turned up into a faint smile. She looked up at his brother and a strange moment passed between them. In fact, Sasuke found himself focusing more on his brother. From the moment Sakura had entered the room, Itachi's eyes had been fixed on her, not in a creepy way. It was as if he were watching over her, making sure that nothing happened to her. For a moment, Itachi's gaze flickered to meet his before moving back to Sakura._

"_Are you taking him away?" Sasuke demanded as eloquently as the fog of medication would let him. There was a long pause this time. She lightly patted his cast, just above the place she had smashed his leg into pieces. _

"_I'm afraid so," she finally responded and Sasuke felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach. He shook his head, trying to ask her not to. But he already knew that she couldn't. He didn't know exactly what, but he knew that she was involved in something much bigger than him and her combined. _

"_Listen. I can't promise that you'll meet your brother again. But if you can find someone who's looking for me, he'll lead you to me someday. If you can find that person, I promise that I'll do everything in my power so that you can see your brother again," Sakura quietly said. Sasuke's eyes darted to his brother. Itachi's eyebrows were arched and his stare frozen on Sakura's back, like he was just as surprised. After a moment, Sasuke nodded as best as his aching body would allow him to. _

_Sakura nodded once as she got to her feet. When she turned and slipped out the door, Itachi seemed to automatically fall into step behind her. But at the door, he paused and then turned back. _

"_Goodbye, Nii-san. I'll find you again. I promise," Sasuke said. And for an instant, he could have sworn that something like a smile flickered in Itachi's face before he too disappeared after Sakura._

"I found this idiot. Now keep up your end of the bargain," demanded Sasuke as he jabbed his thumb in Gaara's direction. Hidan's mouth opened again at Sasuke's casual tone but Sakura silenced him with a sharp look. Instead, it was Gaara that glowered openly at being called an idiot so casually. Sasuke shrugged, unapologetic. Sakura surprised them both by letting out a quiet laugh. It didn't quite reach her eyes and the sound was somewhat muted and cold, but it was a laugh nonetheless.

"Okay. I did promise you that much. But it is getting rather late and I have an appointment early tomorrow. I'm assuming you two have no place to stay in Amegakure," Sakura said as she stood. As if on cue, everyone else in the room got to their feet so Gaara and Sasuke followed suit.

"We were going to find a hotel," Gaara explained, not quite sure where this was going. Sakura, however, shook her head as someone came forward carrying a black trench coat. She lifted her arms and the person obediently slipped Sakura's arms into the sleeves before fixing it over her shoulders. As Sakura turned, the bright white ring on her back stared out at them. Beside her, Zetsu, Hidan and the unnamed redhead were pulling on their own matching coats. On theirs, the white ring was replaced by a red cloud. When she bent over to adjust the strap of her shoe, her neckline dipper lower, revealing the top of the spider inked over her heart.

"Come with me and don't keep eye contact with anyone for too long," she instructed with such a lighthearted tone that he couldn't be sure whether to believe her or not. All the others in the room, 16 in total, seemed to pull themselves from the shadows and dark corners they had been occupying. Instead of taking the doors to the stairs, Sakura moved to a door hidden away in a darkened alcove.

There were a few indistinct murmurs of "good night" from others as they drifted out of other exits. Sakura acknowledged them with a nod of her head.

"I'll go find Momochi," Zetsu announced, drawing Sakura's gaze. She nodded silently before he pressed a fleeting kiss to her cheek and melted into the ground.

"That fucking freaks me out every time," Hidan grumbled and Gaara couldn't help but silently agree with him. Sakura ignored him as they filed out the door and into an underground garage. There were three cars and a motorcycle lined up neatly in the adjacent spaces. Several sets of keys jingled at once as everyone went to claim their vehicles.

"Sleep tight, Hime. Hope you see me in your dreams tonight," Hidan said with a sly grin as he ducked in to press his lips against her jaw. Sakura pulled away with a wry smile.

"I'd prefer not to have a nightmare, Hidan," she replied. Unfazed, Hidan strode over to the sleek silver motorcycle and swung his leg over the seat.

"This way," Sakura instructed them as she followed the red-head to a black BMW at the end of the row. Sasuke whistled at the sight of the shiny car and Gaara resisted the urge to punch him into a nearby wall. He had never understood his partner's fixation with cars and vehicles. It was to a point where Sasuke would stop in the middle of a parking lot to admire a particularly nice car. Honestly, if it had smooth steering and could take bullets, it was good enough for Gaara.

"Home, Hime?" the redhead inquired as he held the back door open for Sakura. She inclined her head as she stepped into the back seat. Gaara shot Sasuke a look and Sasuke immediately looped around back to sit with Sakura while he opened up the passenger-side door and climbed in. They all got settled in as a mechanical hum vibrated through the floor. A large door opened up at the end of the garage and Hidan's motorcycle immediately sped out with a large roar. Their car followed after, driving up a steep incline to emerge on a street two blocks away from the building.

"Cigarette?" Gaara heard Sakura offer and he knew that his partner would refuse. Sasuke had always hated the taste of cigarettes, especially the fragrant Gauloises that Sakura was obsessed with. To his surprise, she leaned forward to offer him one. Even though he had a brand new box resting in his pocket, he accepted one of hers.

"Do you have a light?" she inquired, startling him yet again. What had happened to the lighter she had carried around and treated so preciously? But he didn't voice his confusion as he dug into his pocket to find the cheap plastic lighter he had bought in a gas station. When the flames licked the tip of her cigarette, he took a deep breath, expecting the deep, fragrant scent he had always remembered. He listened to her lean back in her seat and exhale, filling the car with smoke. The driver didn't complain, but he cracked the back window to let the haze escape.

"No more French shit?" Gaara asked as he lit his own cigarette and sucked in the flavor.

"Menthol. Tingly, isn't it?" Sakura simply replied.

The rest of the ride was silent, with only the occasional comment from Sakura to their driver. Gaara sunk into his seat, brooding over the cigarette that tasted way too much like toothpaste for his liking. Ignoring the horrible taste, he focused on the streets outside. Ame was once known for being a pioneer of technology. The towering skyscrapers were testament to that fact. But once the government had begun festering from the inside out, things had fallen apart. The power lines were tangled, windows were smashed, old women sat begging on the streets and a thin film of grime coated the sidewalks. It was during this time of poverty, power outages and crime that a man known as Pein had seized control along with a mysterious woman. What Sakura was doing in Ame was something Gaara didn't understand at all.

The sky rumbled ominously as raindrops suddenly peppered the windshield.

"Nagato's gone," Sakura commented and the man in the driver's seat nodded.

After a few minutes, they reached the outskirts of the city where the tightly packed buildings gradually spread out. They took numerous twists and turns on back roads, squeezing through impossibly tight alleys and taking paths hidden by drooping trees. Gaara hadn't even realized how high they were until he glanced out the back window and saw a tiny city fit for ants. When he looked forward, he saw a white Victorian mansion surrounded by a tall black fence. As the car passed through the gates, Gaara caught glimpses of snipers hiding behind posts and on the roof of the house. They traveled the circular driveway until the car came to a stop by the front steps.

When they stepped out of the car, Gaara (and no doubt Sasuke) felt the pressure of dozens of chakras flare threateningly. But the red-haired man muttered something into the microphone clipped to the lapel of his jacket and the killing intent softened into the force of dozens of invisible glares drilling into his back. And when he looked over at Sakura pulling off her black gloves and tucking them into her pocket, she felt his stare and met his gaze.

There was nothing.

There was no hint of devious laughter in her eyes. They were simply blank, like he was staring into the eyes of a mannequin. Even when her lips pulled up into a mocking smile, the cold celadon depths remained as frigid as ever. As if mocking him, she turned and the angle gave him a glimpse of the spider tattooed across her heart.

"Welcome," she uttered with a light flourish of her hands, gesturing to the large house. But all he could see was the tattoo splattered across her pale skin.

And he clung to the hope, prayed that somehow she wasn't gone for good.

* * *

_They say that power is simply the proper balance between fear and security. That was how my father ran things. And I can say that things didn't end up so well for him. With his Swiss bank accounts and legions of followers, my father had begun to think of himself as infallible. That was how a scrawny underling like Kabuto managed to bury four bullets in his chest. _

_Danzo didn't have the right amount of fear for himself. And he ended up paying for his arrogance with his life._

_But I'm different. Not because my underlings fear me or love me more than they did my father. And it's not because I'm more capable or more intelligent than he was. Despite his brutal, vulgar tendencies, Danzo was a strong leader with many accomplishments._

_No. That's not what sets me aside. It's simply that I have that which he lacked. I have plenty of fear. But I'm not talking about striking fear into the hearts of others or living in paranoia of all my enemies. _

_I'm afraid of myself. _

_And I'm afraid that the part of me that used to deal with all of that is gone. _

_And I'm afraid that one day I'll lose all of these things I'm holding in my hands and everyone, even the ones I hold dear, will someday leave my side. _

_So I'll cling, I'll pull and I'll rip apart the things that keep me from feeling safe. _

_And that's what I'll do now._

_I'll take this fool that squandered his life chasing me and I'll tear him to shreds. Because he makes me afraid. He makes me unsure of how to feel. And there is no room for such weakness here._

* * *

Reviews please.


	3. Aphrodite

Sorry this chapter is so delayed... and short. But it's been a nightmare trying to fix my schedule and getting enough sleep. Anyway, there isn't much Gaasaku in this chapter so I apologize. It'll definitely get better in the future. In the meantime, since school has started again, I won't be able to update as frequently as I used to.

As always, thank you to all my amazing readers and especially my reviewers who leave me the most amazing encouragement and feedback.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Nightshade

Chapter 2: Aphrodite

_I dream of shadows. _

_They're fleeting, hiding in the corners of my vision and disappearing whenever I try to focus on them. They whisper. They spill secrets- my secrets. They mock me for my weaknesses, jabbing their cruel nails into me. Sometimes they rest on my shoulders, peering up at my face and grinning at my discomfort. The shadows call to me, reminding me of things I've wanted to forget. They don't have distinct shapes, but sometimes I catch glimpses of faces. _

"_Remember, Sakura? Do you remember Aiko's blue toes when she dangled from the ceiling?"_

"_Do you remember the smell of metal steeped into your hands?"_

"_Sakura, what was it like feeling his pulse sputter to a stop under your fingers?"_

_Their vicious smiles tear into me. The stench of blood and rotting flesh clings to them as they wrap around me. And the harder I scream for them to stop, the tighter they coil around my throat. _

"_Tell us, Sakura. Tell us how the dark stain on that dress will never fade."_

"_Remind us that your fingers were painted red for days."_

_It's the worst when I see mirrors. Because for a moment, I'll see Aiko's face. My beautiful, broken mother with her clear green eyes and soft brown hair flowing past her shoulders. For a moment, she'll smile at me, her gaze sparkling with warmth I don't remember ever seeing. And then, it'll change. Her eyes lolling back into her head as a thin line of saliva trails down her chin. Her skin turns blue and the angry red marks of rope circle her throat like a necklace. Clawing fingers reach out to me from the mirror. And a high-pitched wheeze leaves her mouth that sounds suspiciously like "Your fault" to my ears._

_Those are the nights that I wake trembling. The soft sheets are cold no matter how tightly I wrap them around me. I'm cocooned in silence, like everyone else on the planet has died and left me alone. And rather than being relieved that the shadows are gone, I'm terrified and so profoundly… empty._

_Some of those nights, I can feel Itachi standing outside my door. I can imagine him leaning against the wall, his damp hair clinging to the back of his neck. His eyes will dart to the doorknob a few times, his elegant fingers clenching and unclenching. But after a moment, he'll let out a long breath and push off the wall to head back to his own room. Neither of us will sleep again. And neither of us will ever talk about it, although his worried gaze will follow me the next day. When the maids come in the morning, they'll pretend not to see the wet pools in my pillows._

* * *

Gaara watched, confounded when Sakura simply floated up the stairs without speaking another word to either him or Sasuke. When he turned around, he saw Sasuke eyeing the staircase with similar confusion. But then the silver-haired man with a penchant for swears spoke up.

"Listen. Since Hime's letting you stay the night, I'm guessing she thinks you two fuckers are special or something. You'll stay in the west wing," he drawled, pointing at the stairs opposite from the one Sakura had used. After a moment, he raked his fingers through his hair and eyed Gaara with interest.

"You fucking got names or what?" he demanded. Sasuke bristled a little, his hand sliding towards kusanagi. But he was saved when the man with dark red hair suddenly spoke up.

"That's Sabaku no Gaara and Uchiha Sasuke. They're better known as the Sandman and Shinigami," he listed off in a completely flat tone.

"My brother?" Sasuke demanded, his dark eyes flashing red as he glanced around.

"Not here. He'll be here in the morning. I'm Sasori," the red-head said without extending his hand for a shake. His amber eyes landed on the silver-haired man who in turn gave him a glare. Crossing his arms over his chest, he muttered "Hidan". Sasori peeled off his dark leather gloves and stuck them in his pocket before he looked up again.

"Since you're Hime's guests, we can guarantee you two safety for the night. But if you try anything-" Sasori began in a soft voice but Hidan interrupted.

"If you try any shit, I'll fucking rip your throats open," Hidan growled with a menacing leer. Even though he tried his best to keep a straight face, Gaara had to quell the growing urge to smash his foot into Hidan's teeth. He wasn't used to taking threats without retaliating with his fist.

"If that's settled, Utatane will show you to your rooms," Sasori said as an old woman with her gray hair pulled up into a severe bun emerged from the corner. She nodded deeply to Sasori and fixed Hidan with a disapproving stare before she walked up the stairs with surprising agility. Gaara and Sasuke exchanged suspicious glances before they followed the ancient woman. But when they reached the top of the stairs, the back of Gaara's neck prickled. He glanced back and at the top of the other staircase stood Sakura still in the wine-colored dress from before along with devastatingly high black stilettos. For a second, her mouth opened, like she was going to say something to him. But then her lips pressed together and she abruptly turned on her heel before gliding down the long hallway.

* * *

She woke to a strange stinging in her palms.

A tired sigh slipped past her lips when she slowly sat up. The covers slid off her shoulders, pooling over her bare thighs. When she reached up to rub her eyes, a sharp pain pricked through her hand. Glancing down, she found bright red crescents pressed into her palm. She brought up her other hand and saw that identical marks were carved into her skin. Her short nails were stained at the tips and she took a moment to pick at the dried blood crusting there. Chakra fizzled along the cuts, filling up the spaces gouged out. She wiped her palms over the streaks, leaving reddish-brown streaks. She closed her eyes for a moment and reached out with her senses, searching for the bright pulses of chakra scattered throughout the house.

"Zetsu?" she called into the darkness. The mansion was eerily silent and the shadows lingered in suspicious forms that seemed to watch her. But after a moment, she heard a liquid noise from the other side of the room. A pale arm extended from the wall, hovering in the darkness like a corpse's limb. Another arm followed, as dark as the other was white. When Zetsu's head emerged, his gold eyes glowed faintly. They perused the darkened room once before they landed on her form curled up against the headboard.

"Hime," he said, his head tilting to the side. Sakura nodded in response and watched as he pressed both palms flat against the wall and pulled himself out. The wall rippled around him like water before settling back into a solid surface. An almost imperceptible sigh left Zetsu as he crossed the room and stood at the foot of her bed.

"My apologies, Hime. Did my presence wake you?" Zetsu inquired. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and the buttons were undone, revealing his chest. Sakura wrapped the sheets around her body as she shook her head. After a pause, she crawled forward and reached out to run her finger along the jagged scar that neatly bisected his body.

"No. I was up anyway. When did you get back?" Sakura replied as she extended her hands to him. He automatically seemed to reach out to her before he froze. His eyes widened before they flickered down to her hands. A small noise, almost like a groan, rumbled low in his chest as he knelt before her.

"Again, Hime?" Zetsu sighed as he gently took her hands in his. Sakura didn't reply, instead turning her head to look out the window.

"The dreams again?" Zetsu prodded, his tone laced with suspicion. But she remained tight-lipped and he eventually gave up. Instead, Zetsu lifted her hands to his mouth and ran his tongue along the smudges of blood left on her skin. When he was finished, he carefully placed her hands on the bed, letting his fingers skim over the thin skin over her wrists.

"Would you like me to stay with you until you calm down, Hime?" he casually offered. But she could see the exhaustion in his face and she could smell the gunpowder on his clothes. He probably hadn't slept properly in a few days. Yet here he was, offering to sacrifice a good night's sleep for her sake. Sakura slowly looked back at him and for a moment, she was seized with a sudden swell of tenderness. And that, more than the shadows, terrified her.

"You must be exhausted. Please feel free to rest," she quietly said, not meeting his eyes. Zetsu lingered for a moment, despite his obvious dismissal. He took a breath, like he was about to say something. But just like everyone else did, Zetsu nodded respectfully before silently slipping out of the room.

And Sakura sat, listening to his footsteps fade in the hallway. Finally, when the mansion fell silent again, she laid back down in her bed. The soft pillows cradled her head and the quiet ticking of the clock above the dresser all beckoned to her, drawing her closer and closer to sleep. But at the edges of her vision, the shadows lingered. She saw glimpses of faces she had promised never to remember. So like always, she put her hands over her eyes, curled up on her side and lay completely still.

She was a corpse that was still breathing.

But that night, she felt his presence lingering in the corridor for longer than usual. And just when she expected him to go back to his room, the doorknob turned. The hallway was dark so no light streamed in. Instead, all that slipped inside was a tall figure slouched with weariness. His normally mute footsteps were unnaturally heavy as he walked into the room and stopped at the foot of the bed where Zetsu had stood earlier.

"Go away," Sakura flatly ordered, still covering her eyes. He ignored her as he closed the door. Sakura peeked out between her fingers and saw his lean frame illuminated by moonlight. His pale fingers undid the buttons of his dark jacket before tossing it over the back of her favorite armchair. Underneath, his white shirt was stained burgundy. The soaked fabric clung to his left arm. She could see something glistening unpleasantly in the dim light.

"Oh," she whispered, scrambling to sit and scoot over to make room for him on the bed. Now that she listened, she could hear his slightly labored breath and the tiny noises of discomfort he made each time he moved. Still, this was Itachi so his expression remained as stoic as ever. Sakura hugged her knees to her chest as she watched him slowly unbuckle his belt. She couldn't be sure, but she was fairly certain that his fingers were shaking.

"Let me," Sakura softly interrupted as she crawled to the foot of the bed and pushed his faltering hands aside. Itachi's skin felt unnaturally cool as he tried to push her away. But Sakura ignored his silent protest as she quickly removed his belt and then popped open the button of his black trousers. She let him pull down the zipper and shed his pants while she rose to her knees and began unbuttoning his ruined shirt.

"Your hands."

Sakura pretended not to hear him as she undid the final button and helped him slip his right arm from the sleeve before she gingerly peeled the fabric away from his left bicep.

"You should go to the hospital. I'll call Sasori-"

"No," Itachi sharply cut in, his expression suddenly fierce. Sakura, who had been reaching for her cell phone on the nightstand, froze in place.

"Don't call Sasori or Zetsu or Hidan. Don't," he whispered, staring intently at the ground. Sakura tilted her head to the side before she crawled back over to the foot of the bed.

"Itachi," she said in a barely audible voice. When her hand reached out to touch his shoulder, Itachi flinched a little like she had burned him. With a sigh, Sakura ducked her head to peer up at his face. His eyes were squeezed shut and his dark eyelashes fanning across his cheeks.

"Itachi," Sakura repeated in the same tone. This time, he slowly opened his eyes to look at her. A half-smile tilted her lips as she reached up and cupped his cheeks in her hands. Slowly, his crimson irises darkened until they turned grey again. His big hands rested over hers for a moment before they fell to his side.

"Sit. I'll go get the first aid kit," she ordered as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and got to her feet. When she opened up the armoire on the other side of the room, she saw him almost sluggishly walk over and perch on the edge of her bed. She found the small white case hidden in the corner and popped the metal clasps open.

"Why didn't you go to the ER?" Sakura inquired as she ripped open a package of alcohol wipes and began cleaning her hands. She rubbed at her fingertips to get rid of the vestiges of her blood left there.

"You needed me," Itachi flatly replied. Sakura scoffed as she opened another set of wipes and crossed the room. She sat beside him and began meticulously cleaning the area, wiping away the dried blood that had caked on.

"That's a terrible excuse," she retorted as she channeled chakra to her right palm. It tingled pleasantly under her skin, like it was relieved to finally be put to use. When she placed a hand on his arm to steady herself, she felt his inquisitive gaze and stopped.

"Why did you call for Zetsu?" he demanded.

"Because you didn't want to come," Sakura softly said as she pressed her palm to his arm and let her chakra flow into him. She focused on his arm, pretending that she didn't notice him staring at the top of her head.

"Sakura-"

"You're tired of me. You want to leave me. I know," she sighed as she felt his skin fuse together underneath her hand. She pulled her hand back to survey her handiwork. Satisfied with the results, she smoothed her fingers over the slightly pink flesh. But when she tried to pull away, Itachi tightly grabbed her wrist, almost to the point that it hurt her.

"You're everything," Itachi insisted in an almost exasperated tone.

"That means that you want nothing, Itachi," Sakura replied with a sad smile.

"Sakura-"

"Just go. It's late," Sakura interrupted with an irritable wave of her hand. When his grip loosened, she was so sure that she had won. But after that instant, his fingers moved, sliding down. He pressed his palm against hers, twining their fingers together. She could feel the heat from his bare chest as he leaned over to rest his forehead against hers.

"No," he whispered.

She wanted to throttle him. She wanted to scream and rage and break things until the frustration bottled up in her chest was finally diffused. But at the same time, the gentle way that he held her, the familiar way he called her name- it made her feel like she had gone back. Before she had stained her hands with so much blood and before she had watched the life drain from countless eyes. And the sound of his soft breaths and the mere presence of another heartbeat in the room somehow seemed to push the shadows back a little further. So that night, she didn't have the strength to push Itachi away. Instead, she finally fell asleep, curled up against his chest.

* * *

She woke to the sting of angry eyes watching her. Before she had even regained consciousness, the hair on the back of her neck was standing. On impulse, her muscles tensed and she bolted upright, hand clutching at the katana hidden between the mattress and the headboard. But when her eyes opened, she was staring at a red smudge in the dim morning light. From the way he filled up the entire doorway with his imposing presence, she knew it couldn't be Sasori.

"Gaara," Sakura sighed as she reluctantly sat up. The strap of her silk nightgown slipped and she hooked her thumb through it to hoist it back onto her shoulder. She felt his jade eyes peruse the lines of her throat and shoulders before they came to a stop around her chest. But she knew he wasn't looking at anything inappropriate. The dark shape of her tattoo was visible just above the top of her nightgown. Over the years, it had faded to a slightly less dark shade of black but the crimson spot on its back was as vibrant as ever. Sakura rubbed at the back of her neck as she glanced up at the clock.

"It's 5 in the morning. What do you want?" she demanded a little irritably.

"You said that you would tell me everything. So speak," Gaara retorted with familiar arrogance. He strode across the room and settled comfortably in the armchair near her bed. Her fingers tightened over the black sheath of her katana.

"What do you want to hear?" Sakura relented as she slid the weapon back into his hiding place. As she waited for his answer, she combed her fingers through her short hair and tugged the hem of her short nightgown down before she turned back to him. But Gaara obviously wasn't deep in thought. His mouth was set in an angry line and the sharp jade of his eyes were focused completely on her. She had forgotten that he had always done that: whenever Gaara watched her, his attention was always completely on her. Pushing away the strange twinge of satisfaction at her revelation, Sakura regarded him impassively.

"Tell me **everything**. That was the deal," Gaara demanded, his jaw clenching.

"Everything?" she repeated, matching his stern expression.

"Give me questions. I'll have answers," she sighed as she leaned back on her hands. Elbows on his knees, hands clenched together, Gaara slowly lifted his head to glare up at her.

"Uchiha Itachi. You. What's going on?" Gaara inquired softly. Again, his eyes trailed over her, lingering on her exposed arms and legs. She could see the gears turning in his head, him imagining what sort of things another man had done to her. The possessiveness in his gaze irritated her more than it should have.

"I've had sex with him if that's what you're getting at," Sakura flatly replied, tilting her head back. Gaara's lips mashed together and his fingers dug into his knees.

"But he's not my lover," she added after some thought. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his face go completely blank. Even when his muscles tensed, she didn't move out of the way. With a low snarl of frustration, Gaara suddenly leapt from his seat and pinned her to the bed. His big hands clamped over her thin wrists and the position of his knees kept her effectively incapable of wriggling away. She saw the surprise break through his fury when he realized that she wasn't actually trying to escape. Instead, she stared up at him with a dispassionate expression, only moving to flex her fingers.

"What do you hope to accomplish by doing this?" asked Sakura and his face twisted into a scowl once again.

"What? I fucked someone and now you're jealous? Let me remind you of something, Gaara. I was never yours," Sakura spat, punctuating her jab with a sneer. His grip loosened for a second before he clamped his hands around her even tighter. The low pants of his breathing were the only thing to fill the space between them. Even when her fingers began to prickle from the lack of circulation, Sakura didn't say anything.

"You **were** mine," he quietly insisted. The words soundly strangely disjointed, like he was in pain. His green eyes searched hers, almost frantically, as if he would find some sort of answer there. But her cool gaze revealed nothing. This time, when she flexed her hands, his grip loosened and she pulled out of his grasp.

"Poor thing. You're confused," Sakura mockingly cooed as she smoothed her hands up his arms. Her fingers caressed his cheeks before they tangled into his thick crimson hair. Her gaze was drawn to his parted lips as she pulled his face down towards hers. His eyes drifted to her lips too but she placed a finger on his mouth.

"I wasn't," she whispered.

"Liar," he hissed as he grabbed her chin. A tiny sigh escaped her when their lips met. When she pulled his bottom lip between her teeth, a growl rumbled deep in his chest. Gaara let his full weight fall on top of her as he tangled his rough hands into her hair. It was a furious battle of angry teeth and tongues with them barely surfacing for air.

"You were mine and you still are," Gaara snarled into her ear, still gasping for breath. And Sakura, head spinning and heart thundering in her ears, looked up at him and let out a slow breath between her teeth.

"Prove it," Sakura flatly said as she slipped out from under him and stood. She pulled up the strap of her nightgown again. The silvery-blue fabric slid sensually over her legs as she crossed the room and opened up her armoire. With a quick flick of her wrist, she pulled a short robe with a swirling floral design off its hanger. As she pulled her arms through the sleeves, Gaara slowly sat up. He was wearing just a thin wife beater with dark jeans. But through the fabric of his shirt, she saw the outline of something black and gold twisting up his back. Her mouth opened to question him about it, but the forlorn expression on his face stopped her from saying anything. Instead, she cleared her throat and adjusted the collar of her robe.

"Close the door when you leave," she ordered as she pulled the door open. Outside, there were two dark figures lurking in the hallway. When Sakura emerged, they immediately stood up straighter. Without another word, she headed down the hallway with the two nameless, faceless followers trailed close behind her.

"Fuck off," Sakura sighed after she had taken a few steps.

"Ma'am?" one of the men inquired. Sakura came to an abrupt halt, her bare feet slapping against the wood floor.

"I said, **leave**," she ground out as she shot a deadly glare over her shoulder. Two high-pitched apologies slipped into the air before they bowed and ran off in the opposite direction. Scoffing, Sakura made her way down the hallway, listening to the quiet creaks of the old house. At the far end of the east wing were double-doors guarded by two burly guards. At her approach, they murmured polite greetings and held the doors open for her. Unsurprisingly, inside was a man sitting on top of the heavy mahogany desk.

"Hime? It's unusual to see you functioning this early in the morning," Pein remarked as he slid off the desk and put both his feet on the floor. Sakura ignored him as she strode across the room and yanked at the thick gold cord attached to the floor-length drapes. The heavy maroon velvet swept across the tall windows, blocking out the beginnings of sunrise. Sakura heaved an enormous sigh as she collapsed in the plush black chair behind the desk. She yanked drawers open, rifling through them roughly before moving on to the next. Finally, she opened a drawer and found a small cardboard package. When she flipped it open, pristine rows of cigarettes sat waiting for her. Sakura stuck one in her mouth and began digging for a lighter when she heard a familiar flick. When she looked up, Pein was offering his lighter to her with an orange flame waiting.

"You seem rather irritable today," Pein commented as he lit her cigarette for her. Sakura spared him a dark glare as she took a deep breath like she had been holding her breath for ages. When she exhaled, silvery wisps of smoke clung to her face. She held the cigarette between two dainty fingers as she leaned back in the chair.

"I'd like to know why you're here," Sakura finally said a little more sharply than she had intended. But he seemed unaffected by her bad mood. Pein slid off the desk and instead sank into one of the chairs in front of her. Sakura crossed one leg over the other as she took another drag of her cigarette.

"Orochimaru," Pein simply said as he crossed his arms over his chest. A faint smile appeared on Sakura's mouth.

"No," she replied as she tapped off the scorched leftovers from the end of the cigarette.

"No?" Pein repeated, raising any eyebrow.

"Kabuto is more dangerous than that old snake ever will be. As long as Orochimaru's in power, we have little to fear from Sound," Sakura explained with a hint of impatience. She flicked the end of her cigarette, sending gray powder crumbling into the glass ashtray by her arm. Her gaze flickered up to Pein and she fixed him with a stern look.

"Don't touch Orochimaru," she ordered, leaving no room for argument. Pein rankled, unused to being ordered around. But his mouth tightened into a thin line and he simply nodded. He watched Sakura pour smoke from her mouth once more before he spoke again.

"And your guests?" Pein inquired almost cautiously.

"Don't touch them either. Be sure to let Hidan know that," Sakura replied with the same deadly undertone. When Pein hesitated to respond, Sakura felt the tenuous suppression on her chakra falter and for a moment, the crushing force of her presence flooded the room. And Pein, with all his experience and his strength, swallowed audibly. When he dipped his head in a respectful nod, Sakura reigned in her chakra and mashed her mostly untouched cigarette against the desk, leaving a round scorch mark in the expensive wood. She didn't bother to look up when Pein quietly exited the room. A few minutes passed with Sakura glaring at nothing as she turned the pack of cigarettes over in her hand. At some point, the door creaked open and light, quiet footsteps tapped across the floor.

"Where were you this morning?" Sakura inquired, staring intently at the circle burned into her tabletop as Itachi stopped by her desk and set down a cup of black coffee. Fragrant steam rose off of it in fluffy white plumes but Sakura made no indication that she even noticed it. Instead, she pushed away from the desk and got to her feet. Their shoulders brushed when Sakura wandered over to the curtains and carefully nudged it to the side to peer out the large window that filled the entire wall.

The clear pond in the courtyard glittered as rich shades of red and pale gold spilled over the horizon. A few ducks sat in the water, their tails occasionally popping up as they bobbed for food. As Sakura looked up at the cloudless sky, she suddenly felt unbearably cold. Whirling around, she found Itachi sitting in her chair, head resting tiredly against the back. He met her gaze and his eyebrows lifted questioningly.

"Kisame needed some help," Itachi replied vaguely. But the faint spatter of reddish-brown on the collar of his white shirt spoke volumes. He had been down at the warehouse helping Kisame interrogate. She eyed the coffee waiting on her desk for a moment. The fragrance of freshly ground beans and cinnamon wafted over temptingly, making her mouth water. But the weak warmth of the sunlight splashing against the windows was so comfortable. She wavered between the two before she made the mistake of taking a deep breath and inhaling the rich, bitter scent that made a sigh reflexively spill from the back of her throat.

"Coffee," Sakura muttered as she made her way to the desk and cradled the mug between both hands. She took a greedy gulp, savoring the earthy taste as it washed down her throat. With the rim of the mug still touching her mouth, she caught Itachi staring at her. His dark eyes greedily watched her, a subtle hunger lingering just under the surface of his calm gaze. Her lips curled up as she took another sip before she placed the mug on one of the many bookcases lining the walls.

"Hey Itachi," she quietly said as she perched on the edge of the desk directly in front of him. Itachi looked up at her through his dark eyelashes with a deceptively even gaze.

"Am I beautiful?" demanded Sakura as she leaned over until their faces hovered merely a few centimeters apart. His cool hand reached up, cupping her cheek tenderly. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. His thumb ran along her cheekbone softly, almost questioningly. And in response, Sakura loosely linked her hands around the back of his neck and used the leverage to drop herself into his lap.

"The most beautiful woman in the world," Itachi whispered before he took a deep breath and captured her lips in a soft kiss filled with every sweet phrase he would never say. His hands skimmed along the outsides of her thighs and a delicious shiver ran up her spine.

"Really?" she asked breathlessly when they briefly separated for air.

"Really," Itachi replied, resting his forehead against hers. Wrapped up in his arms, listening to the matching pounding of their hearts, Sakura felt safe. That was why she had often sought refuge in Itachi's embrace. Even if they both knew that she would never be capable of loving him the way that he loved her, he would never push her away. In the aftermath of their time together, their limbs tangling together, for just a moment, she could forget the darkness creeping up in the edges of her vision. And even if Itachi didn't know about the gloomy voices that hissed into her ear, just for an instant, he had the power to keep them away.

"Thank you," Sakura sighed as she rested her cheek against his chest for a moment. But the moment ended and she pushed away, getting to her feet again. His hands lingered longingly on her arms and back. She knew that he never wanted to let go. And it was so cruel of her to pull him close only to push him away again. But Itachi never complained and she never had the strength to stop. With a sad smile, Sakura brushed her hand against his shoulder before she straightened her robe and walked out of the study.

By the time she returned to her bedroom, Gaara was gone and a maid was waiting outside with a silver cart loaded with breakfast. She ate the light sandwich and tea without really tasting, barely noticing the hint of cyanide scattered across the bread. But when she did take note of it, she promptly grabbed the terrified maid by the hair and yanked on the thick brown locks until the sobbing girl confessed to being hired by a rich government official from Hoshigakure. Hearing the commotion, Hidan burst into the room, first eyeing Sakura wearing just a bathrobe with her wet hair clinging to her cheeks before turning to the girl wailing while clutching the front of her skirt. With a rough jerking motion, Sakura shoved the girl towards Hidan and turned away.

"Take her to Ibiki," Sakura flatly ordered, not looking at either of them. As an afterthought, she instructed him to take the chef too, ignoring the distraught girl's choked pleas. Her bedroom door slammed shut, drowning out the sounds of the maid's horrified cries as she was dragged down the hall. Sakura stood motionlessly in the middle of her bedroom for a moment, staring at the polished silver cart holding her poisoned food. Her lips jerked up in a sneer as she calmly placed her hand on the edge of the cart and flipped it over, sending food and tea spattering across the carpet. The porcelain tea cup shattered across the floor along with the matching teapot. With the angry metallic clatter of silverware dropping, Sakura snorted.

* * *

Sasuke and Gaara were mostly ignored or forgotten by the people in the mansion until sunset. Sakura, sitting on the windowsill in her study, suddenly looked up from her glass of red wine, startling the Akatsuki present. They were scattered across the room; Kisame and Sasori stood by the fireplace, conversing in hushed undertones. Kakuzu hovered by the door, his hands shoved deep into his pockets while Hidan paced impatiently behind the desk. Somehow, Sasuke and Gaara, sitting at the chairs in front of the desk, had been invited but neglected. In fact, for the past hour, Sakura had sat silently at the window, staring pensively at the scenery below. It was only when she went to signal for a refill that Gaara's glare caught her eye and she seemed to remember them.

"Do you need more answers?" Sakura inquired, obviously addressing Gaara. The other men in the room all froze at once, as if they too had forgotten about their guests. And Gaara, staring unflinchingly in to her eyes, slowly nodded. Hidan spat something that sounded suspiciously like "cocksucker", earning an exasperated look from Kakuzu.

"Do you still have what I gave you?" she demanded, ignoring the outburst from Hidan. Gaara immediately reached into his pocket, pulling out the round silver earring with a black spider painted in the middle. The bright red patch on its back seemed to glow menacingly as Gaara held it in the middle of his palm

"Sasuke," Sakura suddenly said and his dark head jerked up. She glanced over at Kakuzu who openly glared at her with fierce eyes. But after a second of silently protesting, Kakuzu let out a harried sigh and plucked another earring from the front pocket of his black jacket. He roughly threw it at Sasuke who easily caught it with one hand. His questioning gaze turned to Sakura, matching the look in Gaara's eyes.

"Left ear. Meet out front in an hour," she ordered in clipped sentences as she rose to full height. Without another word, Sakura crossed the room in long strides, deliberately not meeting Gaara's burning stare. But she hesitated in the doorway, resting her hand on the doorframe. Tilting her head, she glanced over her shoulder. Meeting Gaara's accusatory glare, Sakura felt her lips pull into a sneer.

* * *

_When I first moved my base of operations to Ame, I wasn't received too warmly. Pein had established control in Ame by instating himself as some sort of all-powerful deity. And Konan held the title of his angel, like some holy being watching over the citizens of this squalid city. I knew that Pein would be unhappy to have such power stolen away from him and if Pein was unhappy, Konan wouldn't hesitate to betray me. Orochimaru's roaches pushed further and further into Konoha with every passing day along with the rest of my supposed allies. _

_In the end, all I had was me._

_During the long silences of the night, I planned and manipulated and schmoozed until I was sick of hearing my own voice. It was around this time that the voices started invading the cracks of my mind. Where Inner Sakura had once lingered, the shadows now overflowed. And whenever I was alone, they would wriggle out from their hiding places, yanking out memories and screaming the names of people long-dead. _

_It was also around this time that I'd heard stories of Sabaku no Gaara and Uchiha Sasuke fumbling around in Iwagakure like a pair of fools. It was astounding with their lack of tact and discretion that they weren't killed in a week. But as time passed, and they gathered more information, they drifted further and further from Ame. And I, sitting on all the luxury and power I had tried my best to avoid, sat waiting to be found. _

_I don't remember when I lost myself._

_But by the time I realized that I was slipping, it was too late for me to return. People tell me that it's easier to forget, that it's the way to live with oneself after committing the heinous things that I've done in my lifetime. But the shadows won't let me forget. _

_There are nights where I wake up and I don't know my name. I don't know where I've come from or where I'm planning to go. All I can see is the sticky blood overflowing, streaming off my hands and trailing in hot ribbons down my arms. And while I know that they're not there, I can't stop myself from pulling and clawing at the blood until the sharp sting of my nails drawing blood shakes me from my dreams. _

_I wish for things._

_In fact, I wish for a lot of things. They're mostly things I can't have. But above all, the one thing that I truly wish for the one thing I would sacrifice anything for…._

_I want to plead to whatever cruel deity is sitting on his throne and laughing at me. I want to plead and beg and sob, asking for an answer to the question that always haunts me._

_When did I lose myself?_

* * *

Reviews are appreciated as always.

I'm sorry if there were any errors but it's 2 am and I'm on the verge of passing out.


	4. Blank

Apologies for the severely delayed update. But it's midterms week so I was actually studying, not procrastinating. Anyway, it's time for another challenge.

**The first 2 people to figure out which personality disorder Sakura suffers from get a oneshot each.** (No cheating and checking in the reviews to see what other people have guessed!)

Enjoy!

* * *

Nightshade

Chapter 3: Blank

_I'm sitting. At least… I think so. I might be sitting here… _

_There used to be a time when things made sense to me. There used to be a time when I would open my eyes in the morning and immediately know who I was and what I was meant to do. There used to be a time when I remembered what it was like to be in control._

_I'm not so sure about things anymore._

_My days start before dawn, usually. In fact, my days haven't ended very cleanly as of late, nor do they actually start. Most nights, I lie awake, staring at the ceiling and listening to the whispers of the shadows hissing around my ears. When I do sleep, it's short, almost more exhausting than staying awake. Those few nights when I give in to his warmth, pressing myself closely against his chest, skin melding against skin, those are the times I begin to sleep comfortably. Because the shadows can't wriggle into this place. Not then._

_This constant edge of exhaustion follows me, a second skin clinging to me, weighing down my limbs. It's like a physical pain that throbs anew each time I remember it's there._

_Maybe that's why I'm using Itachi so much. _

_He, more than anyone else that grovels at my feet, tries to love me. With his unending patience and his strange sense of masochism, he tries again and again to understand me. No matter how many times I push him away, he never tries to let go. No matter how many times I pierce nails into his hands when I say, "I don't need you," he refuses to give up on me. _

_I wish he would stop. _

_But I wish he would never leave my side. _

_It terrifies me that someone would be capable of loving a dirty, twisted person like me. And it disgusts me that I'm capable of hurting someone capable of loving me. _

_He doesn't understand._

_As much as I appreciate the comfort he offers, as much as I'm grateful for the times he holds me close, his existence wounds me more than anything._

* * *

When the door to the bedroom cautiously cracked open, she was lying on her side, staring blankly at the wall. She was fully dressed in tight black pants and a crimson blouse. Her bare feet were tangled comfortably in the soft sheets. The pallid meld of her unpainted toes against the white sheets made her feet look unnaturally white, almost like the feet of a corpse. A quiet sigh broke the silence as she felt Itachi's weight settle on the edge of the bed.

"Are you alright?" he inquired. The warmth of his hand settled between her shoulder blades. When she didn't stir, his fingers lightly threaded into her hair, gently combing through the short strands. A tiny hum of approval rose in her throat as she turned her head toward him.

"What time is it?" she inquired as she gave him a sleepy half-smile. But when he didn't reciprocate, the rare positive emotion faded.

"Your brother… And your father," he informed her with obvious reluctance. Sakura's eyebrows knitted together as she sat up.

"My father," Sakura slowly repeated, her eyes narrowing as she completely ignored the first part. After a moment of studying his expression, Sakura sat up with an unnatural fluidity. Her expression remained tight and controlled as she smoothed her hair back into place and then rose to her full height.

"Sakura-" Itachi began, reaching out to touch her hand. But the corner of her lip rose in a sneer as she pulled her hand away and crossed the room in silent strides. When she pushed the door to her bedroom open, it swung silently on its hinges, as if it feared breaking her silence. The two bodyguards hovering outside took one look at her stony expression and muttered hurried excuses before they rushed off. However, Kisame, who was standing behind them, regarded her face carefully but made no move to escape.

"I'm coming with you," he announced without hesitation. He took in her mouth twisting open to spit out rebukes and raised a hand in a pacifying gesture.

"Save the abuse, Hime. I need to make sure you don't murder the old man a second time," Kisame interrupted. Sakura's mouth snapped shut as she stared up at him for a moment. Then, with a quick jerk of her head, she brushed past him and continued her brisk path to the stairs. They silently climbed up to the third floor until Sakura hesitated on the top step, her hand curling around the railing.

"The man's a vegetable, Hime. He can't hurt you," Kisame quietly assured her in the darkness. She took a deep breath through her nose, trying her best to quell the nausea filling her stomach.

"Okay," she finally whispered as she took the final step and headed to a door at the end of the hall. Thin strands of chakra clung to her fingers as she twisted the doorknob and she felt the lock click open under her palm. The room was completely white, save the complex stack of monitors and machines hooked up to the frail man lying in the bed. Sakura held her breath as she moved to stand at the foot of the bed, staring down at the expressionless face that still struck terror into her soul.

"Danzo-sama," Sakura finally breathed, glancing at the heart monitor.

Out of the four bullets shot into his chest, only one of them had managed to hit Haruno Danzo's heart. But the man, like some demon of immortality, had clung stubbornly to life. And the extra bullet lodged into his brain had left him in a coma for over ten years. Yet, the man refused to die, clinging to the vestiges of his life with as much tenacity as when he was powerful.

But this emaciated, scrawny shell of a man was no longer the Haruno Danzo she knew. The lined face no longer held the cruel arrogance she was used to. He could no longer silently judge her nor could he order her to wield her katana to destroy the lives of people she didn't know. But like some sort of phantom reaction, the sight of his face never ceased to make her stomach heave uncomfortably. Normally, it was Itachi who would accompany her to visit this man, but lately, Itachi had been eliciting the same reaction in her.

She couldn't stand to see his face some times.

"Old bastard's still kicking," Kisame muttered as he shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall behind her. The nurse hired to watch over him was sitting in the corner of the room, seemingly determined to become invisible. She flinched visibly when Sakura's gaze settled on her shrinking against the wall.

"What happened?" Sakura demanded, staring at the younger woman.

"Um… Haruno-sama's brain activity shifted. There are indications that he might be waking soon," the nurse breathily replied as tears formed in her eyes. Without thinking, Sakura's hold on her chakra slipped and killer intent exploded into the small room. The nurse cowered in her seat, raising her arms to cover her head. Sakura sucked in another deep breath as she tamped down and reigned her chakra back in. The nurse whimpered softly as she tentatively peered out from behind her arms.

"Keep me informed of his condition," Sakura ordered in clipped sentences before she turned on her heel and strode out. Kisame caught up to her before she could reach the steps. His big hand clamped down on her arm, jerking her back. But Sakura set a jolt of stinging chakra down her arm, sending electric pain rippling into his palm. Kisame released her with a hiss of pain. He stood at a distance, regarding her with obvious frustration before he muttered to himself and disappeared down the stairs.

Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. Gripping the banister to stop from falling, Sakura slowly lowered herself to sit on one of the top steps. Her teeth chattered painfully as she wrapped her free arm around her middle, trying to stop the painful gasps that were choking up her throat. When Itachi's chakra flared the tiniest bit to let her know he was there, she couldn't find the strength to lift her head. So, instead, he knelt on a step below hers and waited patiently. A strangled noise escaped from her mouth and she bit down on her lip, ashamed.

"He won't wake up," Itachi finally said, his low voice soft in the darkness.

"Shut up," she whispered shakily, finally raising her head to look at him. But his face wavered, blurring as hot tears welled up in her eyes. Her hands were trembling too violently for her to wipe them away.

"Sakura, I won't let him hurt you again," Itachi whispered, reaching up to cup her face in his hands. She sucked in another shaky breath, desperately trying to quell the stinging tears from spilling out. She shook her head wordlessly as the overwhelming nausea and disgust overcame her again.

And Itachi, patient and calm Itachi, leaned in and touched his lips against hers, just gently enough for it to be a question. She hesitated, letting his warm skin linger against hers. But another tight sob hiccupped up her chest and she finally released her iron grip on the banister and reached out, twisted her fingers into the front of his shirt.

"Say it," she breathed as her tears melted into her mascara, shedding ugly black blotches under her eyes.

"You're beautiful," Itachi replied without hesitation and with such sincerity that she couldn't quite tell if he was lying or not. An ugly, raw sob scratched its way up her throat as their lips met again. He sighed quietly as he wrapped his arms around her and held her against his chest, pressing her into the calm rhythm of his heartbeat.

* * *

When Sakura finally made her way to the car waiting outside, Sasuke looked positively ready to rip someone's head off. As soon as her feet touched the asphalt, his crimson eyes locked in on her, piercing her with a million silent accusations. But his ferocity ebbed when Itachi emerged from the mansion behind her. Itachi's gaze locked with Sasuke's for an instant before he silently inclined his head and walked straight past him.

"Zabuza and Haku?" she demanded as one of her underlings stepped forward to open the car door for her. There was a moment of hesitation, a few eyes darting to Itachi.

"Still out gathering information. We haven't had contact from them, Hime," Sasori spoke up, his amber gaze deliberately lingering on the slight tinge of pink around her eyes. She caught his inquisitive look and all she gave him was a cool smile.

"I guess I'll have to pay a visit to him myself then," Sakura lightly said as she settled comfortably in the back seat of the car. But when Kisame made to slip in after her, Sakura held up a finger, making him freeze.

"I think I'll have our two guests accompany me today," she said, glancing in Gaara's direction. His cool jade eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest. But when several sets of accusatory eyes swiveled in his direction, he obediently looped around to settle in the back seat beside her. Sasuke followed with much less reluctance, his eyes positively glued to his brother. As Itachi went to shut the door his dark eyes locked with hers. He didn't need to say anything for her to know how much he was worrying. Still, he didn't mention her episode with her father as he climbed into the passenger's seat and slammed the door behind him.

The hour-long ride to Orochimaru's estate was unsurprisingly tense. Each time Sakura glanced over, she saw Sasuke's eyes glued to the back of Itachi's seat. And Itachi, to his credit, was doing an impeccable job of ignoring his younger brother's fervent stare. Gaara, on the other hand, seemed to be having trouble looking away from her. Every once in a while, she would glance up into his eyes and he would wordlessly glare, jaw tightening. But she fixed a cool smile on her lips and instead focused on the gray city that whizzed past. The icy torrent of rain hadn't let up in the slightest, which meant that Pein still hadn't returned from his business out of town. When the black car pulled up in front of a traditional Japanese house complete with curving tiled roof and a tall stone wall surrounding the compound, Sakura patiently waited for Itachi to retrieve his umbrella and open up her door, shielding her from the rain.

"What are you planning?" Itachi murmured against her ear, barely glancing Sasuke's way.

"The opposite of what you want," she smoothly replied as she shot a look at the guards standing at the front gate. One of them turned bright red as he fumbled with his walkie-talkie to hurriedly blurt something. There was a crackle and then another equally flustered string of words before the front gates slid open with an electronic buzz. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Gaara and Sasuke getting out of the car to follow them, trying their best not to flinch under the freezing droplets of stinging rain. They made their way down the stone walkway decorated with bonsai trees and intricately designed Zen gardens. Sakura scoffed as she took in the delicate patterns raked into the grains and focused on the heavy double doors up ahead.

"Sakura-sama," a musical voice greeted her as the doors groaned open. Sakura's sneer melted into a gentle smile as their green eyes locked.

"Kimimaro," Sakura replied with a nod of her head. She took the last few steps toward him, Itachi following her like a shadow. Kimimaro's head lowered in a deep bow, revealing the zigzag of his parted hair. When he straightened, Sakura scanned him from head to toe, her eyes lingering over the purple splotch on his arm.

"This way please. Orochimaru-sama's been expecting you," Kimimaro quickly said before she could speak again. Without another word, he turned on his heel and briskly set off down the long hallway decorated with huge portraits of Orochimaru in all his pallid glory. In each of the paintings, he posed with his large purple snake with its sinister gold eyes. Their footsteps echoed hollowly as they made their way to the center of the estate. At some point, Kimimaro stopped and knelt beside a sliding door, bowing his head deeply. The faint outline of a man was visible through the thin rice paper panels.

"Orochimaru-sama, Sakura-sama has arrived," Kimimaro announced.

"Bring them in," a reptilian voice hissed in response and Kimimaro obediently slid the door open. Sakura fixed a cool smile on her face as she took silent steps into the room. At the far end sat Orochimaru with his usual leer. When Sakura entered, Orochimaru smoothly rose to his feet, inclining his head in an exaggerated bow.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Hime." The words slithered out of his mouth as Sakura crossed the room and politely nodded her head at him. When Itachi followed her, Orochimaru's friendly expression cooled significantly. But it was Gaara and Sasuke's expression that set his snake-like eyes glowing with excitement.

"Ah. Isn't this the rumored genius of Konoha? What an honor-" Orochimaru began, taking a step towards Sasuke. Sakura's eyes narrowed as she cleared her throat.

"This one… is mine. We have business, Orochimaru," Sakura cut in, gesturing to Sasuke's left ear. Orochimaru's eyes lingered over the simple earring and his expression immediately deflated. But he quickly rearranged his face into an amicable smile as he gestured to the thick cushions arranged on the floor.

"That won't be necessary. I just wanted to relay a simple message to you," she tersely said, pushing his invitation aside. His pleasant smile remained fixed in place, but his chakra began to leak threateningly. Itachi tensed beside her and she glanced over to find that his irises bleeding red in response.

"What have you been telling Madara?" Sakura demanded, all pretenses of politeness fading away.

"Madara? Hime, I'm insulted that you would think so little of me. We're allies, aren't we?" Orochimaru replied, putting his hand over his chest like he was shocked. But the cold depths of his eyes didn't reflect his actions. At this, Sakura threw her head back and let out a short, musical laugh.

"Of course we are, Orochimaru. That must be why you had little Kabuto-kun lodge five bullets inside of my father," she laughed and Orochimaru's tense smile disappeared. Sakura took a step forward, her hand rising in a slow movement. Her lips curled up into a dangerous smile as she brushed the pads of fingers along his cheekbone in a delicate caress. When her fingers drifted lower to his throat to touch his cool skin, his eyes darkened.

"Feed Madara my information again and I won't be so pleasant next time," she whispered, raking her fingernails down his chest hard enough to make Orochimaru wince.

"Have a nice day," Sakura pleasantly said as she took a step back and smoothly turned on her heel. Before she could ask, Kimimaro easily pulled the door open and allowed her to walk through. Sakura hesitated in the doorway, her cool gaze turning to him.

"Orochimaru, I'd appreciate that if you steal my men, you take better care of them," she snapped as she pushed Kimimaro's sleeve up to reveal the angry red splotches on his arm. Her finger tenderly traced the bruises before she looked into Kimimaro's pale face. The silent plea in his expression made her chest throb.

"Well, Hime, if you protest my methods of discipline so greatly, feel free to take him. He's virtually useless in my experimentation," Orochimaru scoffed and Sakura caught the devastation that flashed across the young man's face. For an instant, she heard the familiar cadence of Danzo's scorn in Orochimaru's tone and she couldn't repress the hatred that bloomed deep within her chest. Lip curling in a sneer, Sakura glanced over her shoulder to cast Orochimaru a pointed look.

"I'll take up on your offer then," Sakura replied. When she looked back to Kimimaro, his bright eyes were wide with disbelief. The corner of her lip pulled up into a faint smile as she held her hand out to him. His fingers hesitated for a moment before he grasped her fingers in his. Without another word, Sakura strode out of the luxurious estate, holding Kimimaro's cool hand in hers all the way to the car. It had stopped raining, but the smell of rain lingered.

But when the chauffeur held the door open for them, a single gunshot cracked through the air. Sakura's head whipped around and she found a dozen men dressed in black perched on top of the stone wall that encircled the compound. One of them raised his rifle and pointed it directly at her head. But before she could move out of the way, Kimimaro ripped his hand out of hers and threw himself in front of her. The crisp white of his shirt slowly turned red near his shoulder until a bump began forming under the fabric. With a profound rip, a smooth white bone still slick with blood tore through his shirt.

"Itachi!" Sakura shouted as she watched Kimimaro grasp the bone and rip it brutally from his shoulder. Itachi grabbed his phone from his jacket and punched in a number, barking orders to the person on the other line. He barely managed to dodge as bullets peppered the asphalt below. Without warning, Kimimaro rushed towards one of the men holding guns and before anyone could blink, he impaled the man through the chest with his crude weapon, sending dark blood spraying through the cold air. When another turned his gun on Sakura, the sharp screech of a katana being pulled from its sheath made Sakura's head whirl around. As she watched, blue chakra crackled down Sasuke's right arm, wrapping the metal blade in deadly energy. Sasuke was a blur as he ran forward, swinging kusanagi with vigor through the line of enemies.

"Sakura, Hidan will be here shortly. We need to get you out of here," Itachi hissed as he put his arm around her.

"No need," Sakura calmly replied, looking up at him. Itachi cocked his eyebrows. But she held up a finger and between the gunshots and the high-pitched shriek of Sasuke's chakra-infused blade, there was a low rumble. They waited and the noise gradually grew louder, growing into the roar of a motorcycle.

"I had Hidan stay nearby. You can never trust Orochimaru," she said, answering Itachi's unvoiced question. Itachi nodded grimly as they watched the silver motorcycle speed down the road and screech to a halt in front of them, sending the odor of burning rubber blowing into their faces. The silver-haired man flipped the visor of his helmet up and swung his leg off of the bike.

"That sneaky snake-bastard," Hidan grumbled as he grabbed his scythe from the complex holster on his back and swung it free, pressing a hidden button on the handle that sent the sharp blade springing into place.

"Try not to make a mess, Hidan," Sakura called after him as he sprang easily over the wall, slicing off someone's head like it was the easiest thing in the world. Sakura gritted her teeth as she watched another line of Orochimaru's cronies burst into the front courtyard and swarm Kimimaro, whose pale complexion and wiry frame made people mistake him for weak.

"Is he actually trying to kill you?" Itachi snarled as more people rushed out of Orochimaru's estate, armed with everything from battle axes to pistols. Sakura barely flinched when a bullet flew past her, barely grazing her right cheek. Instead, her tongue darted out to taste the tiny drops of blood oozing down her skin.

"I think he just might be, Itachi," sneered Sakura as she reached around and drew her katana from its sheath. The heavy coolness of the metal seemed to sigh happily against her palm as she swung it once. It sliced through the air with a high-pitched shriek, drawing a few curious eyes. A smirk pulled up at the corner of her mouth as she rested the flat side of the blade on her shoulder.

"Let's play," she hissed, swinging her blade in a wide arc.

Video games and movies always portrayed slicing through a person as such an easy task. Like the human body is nothing more than jelly. But in reality, there's gristle and bone in the body. Even with the sharpest, most well-crafted katana, it took the right amount of force and the correct angle to really inflict any damage. Sakura gripped her katana tightly in both hands, eyes darting around, searching for tender spots like the throat and the soft, yielding flesh of unguarded stomachs. But before she could even take a swing, there was a horrible ripping noise. And a voice that should have never been capable of expressing pain cried out in utter agony. It was a choked gurgle of a scream that seemed to swallow itself. And the sound pierced straight into her soul, rattling and echoing until she felt her fingertips grow numb.

"Kimimaro?" she whispered, wheeling around just in time to see a spray of blood spout from his mouth. Even then, even with a grotesque splotch of red spreading across his torso and his palms slick with blood and sweat, he reached behind him, hand shaking visibly. With another terrible tearing sound, Sakura watched him pull the smooth white column of his spine out, each vertebrae gleaming like a macabre work of art.

"Hidan! We're retreating! Get your ass out of there!" Sakura shouted suddenly. Hidan yelled something that sounded like "okay". She didn't even need to turn to Itachi. He was already at her side, gun gleaming in the feeble sunlight.

"Where do you think you're going?" a burly man with an equally huge gun leered as he lumbered over to them. Sakura sighed impatiently as she jerked her chin in his direction. She turned her head away as Itachi extended his arm. There was a loud crack followed by the singed smell of gunpowder and burnt flesh.

"Let's go," she quietly ordered as Itachi wrapped his arm around her shoulder and led her in the direction of the car. He quickly shut the door behind her and looped around to take the passenger seat. But the driver sat slumped over the steering wheel. There was a single round hole in the windshield in front of him splattered with red. Itachi didn't hesitate to yank the door open and toss the man's body onto the sidewalk before he climbed into the driver's seat. The odor of burnt rubber permeated the air as Itachi drove the car straight into the throng of fighters, knocking a few people to the ground. He stopped just in front of Sasuke whose shirt was clinging to him in mere slivers. Aside from the few superficial scratches on his back and arms, he seemed unharmed. Sakura didn't need to say anything. He quickly climbed into the front seat, shakily fitting his slick sword back into place.

A few yards away, Gaara had managed to sling Kimimaro's limp body over his shoulder while he half-ran to the car, dodging another peppering of bullets. Itachi lowered the window, leaning out to fire a few bullets in the direction of Orochimaru's compound. When Gaara reached the car, Sakura threw the door open and scooted over to make room for Kimimaro. She tugged him half-into her lap before Gaara squeezed in and shut the door again.

"Sakura, the mansion-"

"No. My place," Sakura interrupted as she tore at the sleeves of Kimimaro's shirt. When Itachi didn't respond, she shot him a sharp look.

"Itachi **Now**," she spat before she returned to tearing cloth. After a moment, the car rumbled to life and took off down the street.

"What about that Hidan guy?" Sasuke breathlessly asked, twisting around to look at Sakura.

"He's right behind us," Sakura snapped, not looking up at him. True to her word, there was the distant groan of a motorcycle. When she briefly glanced over her shoulder, she could see the twin lights of Hidan's bike following them.

"Kimimaro, stay awake," she barked as she pressed the wad of fabric in her hand to the wound on his stomach.

"Can't you heal it now?" Itachi inquired.

"There's something stuck in there. And it might be poisoned," Sakura retorted as she stared down into Kimimaro's pallid face. The rest of the car ride lapsed into silence, save for Kimimaro's occasional whimpers. Every once in a while, his vibrant green eyes would open, searching wildly for her. Each time, Sakura would smooth his hair back, not saying anything. But he was placated with just that and would fall silent again. Sakura could feel Gaara's gaze each time this happened, neither accusatory nor suspicious. He would simply watch her with the same intensity he had always reserved for her.

It was a tense two hours they spent together with Itachi's white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel never loosening. Long after the noise of gunshots quieted, his eyes continued to dart up to the rearview mirror. As the car pulled into a cramped alley in downtown Ame, Itachi finally spoke.

"Sasuke," he said and Sasuke's gaze flew to him, "We'll talk after this. I promise." Sasuke's mouth opened once and then twice before it clamped shut and Sasuke simply nodded.

They stopped behind a plain gray building with graffiti liberally coating the sides. Itachi picked up his phone and briefly spoke to someone before one of the walls of the building rumbled and slid to the side, revealing a dark tunnel. He drove carefully through the pitch black, gaze continually darting back to Sakura. After an endless maze of turns and twists, he parked the car and hurried off.

"Can you carry him?" Sakura inquired in a quiet voice, looking up at Gaara. He nodded. From the far end of the garage, Itachi entered a sequence of numbers into a hidden keypad and the concrete room was flooded with light. Sasuke ran around the car to help Gaara ease the other man to his feet before they both half-dragged, half-carried Kimimaro after Sakura's light footsteps.

"Itachi, go back. Tell Pein what's happened. Cut off everything with that snake bastard," Sakura ordered, not looking at him. Itachi, who had been walking a few paces ahead of her, suddenly stopped walking. He turned around to look her full in the face.

"Are you going to be alright?" he inquired, grasping her shoulders. Sakura's muscles tensed as she looked up into his face. The glare she gave him was usually enough to frighten the most powerful man. But Itachi calmly matched her stare until Sakura's fierce expression softened a little.

"When am I ever? Go," she quietly retorted, trying to shake his hands off of her.

"Be safe," Itachi sighed as he bent over to press his lips against her cheek.

Maybe it was the exhaustion or the adrenaline still rushing through her body. Or maybe it was the feeling of Gaara's fierce gaze glued to the back of her neck. But Sakura tilted her head to press her lips against Itachi's in a soft, chaste kiss.

"You too," she whispered as she pulled away. Itachi nodded once, bending over again to kiss the place where the bullet had grazed her cheek. When he took a step back, she saw the blood wetting his lips before he licked it away. Without another word, Itachi brushed past her and made his way back to the car. Sakura cast a quick glance over her shoulder and found Gaara staring intently at her, like he could communicate to her that way. And in a way, he almost did. She could read the jealousy and the bitter betrayal in his face and it almost made her regret her actions.

Almost.

"Come on. We're almost there," Sakura called out as she began walking at a brisk pace to the far end of the garage. She stopped at a square rectangular panel embedded into the wall. As soon as she pressed her thumb against it, there was a series of high-pitched beeps before a green laser shot out, zeroing in on her eye. She waited, unblinking, as the laser scanned her eye. After a moment, the top of the screen lit up green and the elevator doors opened up beside it. She waited for the men to get on before she stepped inside and pressed the button for the second floor. Kimimaro was slumped against the wall. A thin sheen of sweat had formed on his forehead and he gasped for every breath. Sakura crossed her arms tightly over her middle, eyes darting from Kimimaro and to her feet every few seconds. When the elevator finally jolted to a halt, she was relieved to be out of the cramped space.

"Where are we?" Sasuke inquired as he and Gaara lifted Kimimaro out of the elevator. The steel doors ground shut loudly behind them.

"This is my place. Gaara, can you be lookout? Sasuke, take Kimimaro to the bedroom down the hall," Sakura said in clipped sentences as she pressed her right palm against another pad and watched the door swing open. As soon as she stepped inside, the lights inside the small apartment flickered on. For such a seedy part of Ame, her apartment was surprisingly elegant and well-furnished. The dark wood floors were well-polished and the white walls were decorated with tasteful black and white paintings. While Sasuke carried Kimimaro down the narrow hall, Sakura kicked off her shoes and went to the bathroom. The lights flickered on as soon as her bare toes made contact with the black tile floor. After a little rummaging in the drawers, she found a square metal box filled with medical supplies. On her way the bedroom, her phone buzzed from inside her pocket.

"Hidan?" she answered without checking the caller ID.

"I'm standing guard in the garage. Everything okay up there?" Hidan said in a winded voice.

"Everything's fine. No problems on the way here?" Sakura said as she entered the bedroom and set the metal box down on the dresser. Sasuke had been considerate enough to lay down a few towels under Kimimaro so he wouldn't stain the soft white sheets the dark shade of red that was leaking from his abdomen.

"Had to take out a couple more fuckers. My bike's a fucking mess now but it can still go," Hidan replied with a sigh. She heard the flick of his lighter and the sound of paper sizzling.

"Kakuzu will compensate you. In the meantime, keep watch down there. We might've been followed," she ordered before sliding her phone shut and throwing it onto the foot of the bed. She popped the metal box open and began rifling through the medical equipment still wrapped in sterile plastic.

"This is a nice place," Sasuke remarked as he sat comfortably on the window sill. He glanced over his shoulder and seemed to rethink his decision.

"Super-reinforced glass. Almost impossible to see through. Don't worry," she snorted upon seeing his expression. Sasuke nodded as he leaned back against the window, pulling his leg up to his chest. Sakura pulled disinfecting wipes from the box and began cleaning her hands.

"When did you become so skilled at …" Sasuke trailed off, gesturing to Kimimaro's stomach. The corner of her lip turned up into what resembled a smile as she pulled a sinister-looking pair of tongs from the box and approached the foot of the bed.

"Do you know who my father was, Sasuke?" Sakura inquired as she settled on the edge of the bed and carefully rolled Kimimaro fully onto his back. She flooded her palm with chakra, letting the cool energy gather like water. Closing her eyes, she pressed her hand against Kimimaro's stomach, trying her best to ignore his tiny, almost silent whimper of pain.

"Danzo. Cruel old bastard," Sasuke immediately replied, eyes locked to her hands. Sakura took a moment to concentrate on numbing nerve endings and cooling the blood vessels enough to slow some of the bleeding. When she pulled her hand away, it was completely crimson, sending a shudder down her spine. She quickly wiped it clean on her thigh before she pulled the tongs from the sterile packaging.

"That's right. I was born to be one of his many possible successors. My future had been decided for me before my conception. Nobody ever asked me what the hell it was I wanted to do," she said in a quiet voice filled with resentment. Her expression didn't change as she firmly grasped the tongs and reached into the bleeding mass of crimson and grasped the sharp piece of metal lodged inside the exposed flesh. Kimimaro moaned weakly but he didn't try to move.

"You wanted to be a doctor?" asked Sasuke, his voice high with surprise. Sakura gave the metal an experimental tug, making sure that she had a firm grip on it. Without warning, she pressed her palm against Kimimaro's chest and swiftly yanked the metal out. His back arched off the bed more from the force than pain, but his face still scrunched up, like he was holding back a scream.

"Yeah. But not one of those rich doctors working at a university hospital. I wanted to be one of those doctors working in the underground fighting circuit. That's where I felt like I belonged. Not that any of that matters now," Sakura scoffed as she added in the last thought. She stared down at her hands for a second, like she couldn't remember why they were covered with blood. Clearing her throat, she tossed the sharp piece of metal into the garbage can by the dresser and turned her attention back to Kimimaro. Although his life wasn't quite in danger anymore, with the piece of broken weaponry removed, he was now bleeding quite freely. She gathered chakra to both her hands this time before she pressed them firmly against Kimimaro's stomach.

Sasuke was silent as he watched her work. All the animosity and anger he seemed to have held towards her was strangely absent as he sat quietly. In fact, he was so unobtrusive that she completely forgot he was there until he spoke again.

"…You and my brother…" Sasuke slowly began. Sakura looked up at him, tilting her head to the side.

"Yes?"

"Are you…together?" he inquired, as if he were unsure about the question itself. Sakura hesitated in answering. It should have been simple, dismissing the idea and moving on. For so many years, that was what she had done. And it wasn't that her feelings had changed at all. She was still fully aware of the fact that she was using Itachi for so much more than she deserved. But something about Sasuke with his grown-up face and deep voice asking such an innocent question threw her off.

"No," she finally replied.

"Okay."

He was quiet again while she finished patching up Kimimaro. Suddenly, Sasuke got to his feet, startling her.

"I'll go trade off with Gaara," he announced and walked out before she could stop him. She listened to each of his measured footsteps against the hardwood floor. When Gaara finally reached the room, she could tell from the way his tall frame blocked all the light from the hallway. He lingered in the doorway, simply watching her until she finally looked up at him. Had his eyes always been such a… poignant… was poignant the word? Had his eyes always been such a sad shade of green? His red hair was still shaggy, falling into his eyes and covering the tattoo on his forehead that she had always regretted not asking about.

"You're bleeding," Gaara flatly pointed out, pointing to his left cheek.

"I know," she sighed, looking back down at Kimimaro. She lifted her hands to inspect the pink patch of skin spread across his stomach. After a long moment, Gaara crossed the room and settled on the very same windowsill Sasuke had occupied.

"Is he okay?" he inquired, looking down at Kimimaro's pallid face. Sakura nodded wearily as she tried to smear more of the blood off her hands by rubbing it on the front of her shirt. When she glanced up at Gaara, she saw the blood soaked into his right shoulder and her stomach twisted uncomfortably.

"Are you okay?" Gaara asked, his voice deepening. Sakura closed her eyes, pressing her wet palms to her temples.

"I… I don't know anymore," she sighed.

And somehow, even though he was sitting just a few feet away from her, it was like he was on the other side of the universe.

* * *

_Sometimes, I ask myself if that love I look back on was ever real at all. We began as a farce, a lie meant to torment others. And I'm fairly certain he fell in love with the façade I had put up to keep from falling apart. And I fell in love with his ability to believe my lies while still wanting to know the truth. _

_But I'm not sure I understand what love is anymore. _

_My brother claims to love me but I feel suffocated whenever I'm with him. And while Itachi says that he loves me, I can't come to feel anything other than hollow desperation and guilt that I'll never be able to return the same feelings. _

_There are so many people, so many lies. They all claim so many things but I know that I can't trust any of them. _

_And I know that my fragile, desperate heart is one of the last things in the universe that I should trust. _

_But I see these people, wrapped up in their romance and living blissfully, not knowing anything outside of their cocoon of comfort. They let their love define them until they, as an individual, cease to exist. Even as I scoff at them, I can't help but feel a little jealous. What would it be like to live however I wanted? To reach out and grab hold of whatever emotion passes my fancy?_

_I can dream all I want. _

_And I can wonder all I want._

_There are some things that I know someone like me will never be able to attain. Not in this life._

_Happiness is the first. _

_Love is the second._

* * *

Reviews please!


	5. Elegy

For some reason, I think it's become an unspoken rule that I finish chapters at 2 am. Anyway, since it's late (as always), I apologize in advance for any glaring errors. As always, thank you very much to all of my readers because you guys are the best people in the world.

Hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

Nightshade

Chapter 4: Elegy

_When Danzo-sama passed away, I was given a lot of things. I inherited more money than I had even known that someone could possess. I gained loyal followers. I gained an empire._

_But I lost too._

_In the struggle between the top gang lords in the area, Orochimaru capitalized on the instability within Root and he took some of my men as 'payment'. If I hadn't been in the middle of purging deception within my ranks, I would have been able to tell him where he could shove that payment. Instead, he stole my youngest and my brightest. They were the ones I had hand-picked from the underground fighting circuit. I had lifted them from the bowels of corruption and abuse and I had chosen them as mine. And Orochimaru snatched them away, subjecting them to his sick experimentation that left even the most seasoned stomachs twisting with revulsion._

_Kimimaro was the boy I had discovered when I was still in high school. At that time, he was a year older than me, malnourished and essentially imprisoned by some small-time criminal looking to make some money. It hadn't taken much persuasion, especially with Kisame towering over my shoulder, to end Kimimaro's contract and bring him over to Root. Pale and frightened, he lashed out at everyone._

_Everyone but me._

_Whenever I visited Danzo-sama's mansion, I would make it a point to visit this boy. He would always be sitting by the window, positioned where he would be able to see cars pulling up and drop off their passengers. Hunched over and dressed in white clothes, he would always seem so much smaller than I was. And although we never had much to say to each other, I knew that he would always be happy to see me, even if he was incapable of expressing it. But before he could really finish recuperating, he was taken away from me. _

_I've never really understood what drew me to this boy. Was it that sad, faraway look in his eyes? Even now, I'm not really sure what it was. But somehow, whenever he reached for me with cold, needy hands, I would never push him away. And his bare back, riddled with pale scars, was so beautiful that it made my chest squeeze so tightly that I was sure that my heart would burst. Every tear, every whisper, every breath fit together. Maybe that was it._

_We were two broken people taking from each other but too immature to not understand how to give._

_Is that too cliché?_

_Before anyone asks. No. Of course not._

_I told you that someone as ugly and twisted as me could never love._

_Never._

* * *

She woke to the sound of a long, weary sigh. Her eyelids were so heavy and her limbs so sluggish that she didn't have the heart to move.

"How long has she been sleeping?" Sasuke's voice inquired. There was a rush of air near her face and she felt fabric settle around her shoulders. Large but clumsy hands tucked the ends around her.

"She's been out for a couple hours now. She won't leave his side though," Gaara replied. At his words, she was reminded of the feeble heartbeat that had been fluttering under her fingers. Sakura willed her impossibly heavy hands to move. Ignoring the raw ache in her fingertips, she pooled chakra to her fingers and felt for damage in Kimimaro's abdomen. She used the vestiges of her weak energy to seal off a few stray blood vessels that were still bleeding and let the energy sputter out.

"You're fucking crazy," Gaara muttered as he cupped her chin in his hand and carefully lifted her head to examine her face. She mustered enough energy to crack her eyes open and stare at him.

"Let me go, asshole," she mumbled. Gaara scowled back fiercely as he jerked his hand away and let her head fall gracelessly back onto the bed. With a grunt, she lifted herself up by the elbows and reached across the bed to press her fingers against Kimimaro's neck. His steady heartbeat eased the nervous tension that had pooled in her gut. Gaara's rough hands picked up her right arm and he scoffed.

"Chakra burns. You're insane," he snorted, placing her hand back down. Sakura was about to retort when she took a deep breath and the scent of the jacket around her shoulders made her stop. She still recognized, after nearly a decade, the smoky fragrance of sandalwood and fresh soap. On reflex, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she let them dry up on their own, too weary to move her arms much. She sucked in a calming breath through her mouth and willed her arms not to buckle as she pulled herself up.

"Someone get me my phone please," she said, holding her hand out expectantly. She didn't miss that Gaara and Sasuke exchanged looks before Sasuke scowled and slipped out of the room. He returned moments later and deposited her white phone in her hand. Sakura began dialing a number that she already knew by heart when the screen lit up and interrupted her.

"Itachi," she breathed in relief as soon as she answered the phone. This time, she couldn't ignore the weight of Sasuke's stare which was no longer angry but still full of the same expectation. She nodded minutely in his direction and his shoulders relaxed the slightest bit.

"I'm on my way up. I've brought along… a guest," Itachi informed her in his usual calm tone. But underneath his words, there was a slight sting that she easily recognized as irritation. He used that tone with her frequently as of late.

"Alright. I need you to talk to Sasuke when you get here," she replied before she slid the phone shut and tossed it onto the bed. Sighing, she rubbed her temples before she looked up in Sasuke's direction. His face was contorted, like he couldn't decide how to feel. But after a few moments, his eyebrows knit together and he solemnly nodded at her.

Overcome by exhaustion, Sakura pillowed her head on top of her arms and slipped into another light slumber that was interrupted by the beeps of the sensor mounted on the wall alerting her that the elevator was in use. She blearily cracked her eyes open to check that the scans confirmed that it was Itachi before she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep. Even when footsteps travelled across the wood floor, her honed reflexes failed to jerk into action once the elegant tendrils of Itachi's chakra signature tickled along the edges of her mind.

"Has she been sleeping long?" Itachi inquired after a pause. His hand rested on top of her head, lightly brushing strands of her hair out of her eyes. The pad of his thumb ghosted over the unhealed scrape on her cheek, reminding her of the faint sting that had been lingering there.

"A few hours before. She went back to sleep right after you called," she heard Gaara reply from nearby. For a few seconds, she wondered if he would ignore her orders and choose to stay by her. His fingers brushed through her hair and then he pulled the jacket off her shoulders and she was acutely aware of just how fragile and cold her body felt. Silent footfalls crossed the room and there was the sound of a drawer opening and shutting before the soft warmth of a blanket settled over her. The scent of his cologne washed around her as he pulled the edges of the blanket up to cover the back of her neck.

Although she was grateful for his consideration, somehow her body rejected rest violently. Something clawed at the edges of sleep, tearing away the peaceful dusk and shrieking, warning her of danger. But her eyelids were heavy and it was so warm that she couldn't fight any longer. So with a deep breath, she let herself slip from the edges of consciousness and back into the peaceful darkness.

When her eyes opened again, her head was significantly clearer and the painful throbbing in her temples had decreased to a faint pulsing. Sakura turned her head, trying to figure out what had woken her in the first place. A feather-light touch skittered over the back of her hand.

"Sakura-sama?"

Her arms shook just a little as she pulled herself up to meet Kimimaro's bewildered gaze. His eyes were still hazy from the painkiller she had injected him with earlier. But still, even though he barely knew what was going on, the first words he spoke were to call for her. Sakura bit back the bitter laugh that threatened to well up from her mouth. She reached out and took his hand in hers.

"How are you feeling?" inquired Sakura.

"Your face," Kimimaro mumbled as he tentatively raised a hand to touch her cheek.

"Does it hurt?" he asked in his usual childish innocence that made her heart break in two.

"No, sweetie. I'm okay. Are you in any pain?" she murmured in response as she bent to touch her forehead against his. He lightly shook his head.

"What's going on, yeah?"

And the little alarm that had been quietly ringing in the back of her head suddenly exploded in a cacophony of noise. The hardly noticeable, unobtrusive presence that had been lingering in the doorway suddenly jumped to the forefront of her attention.

"Nii-sama," she stiffly said as she sat up straight. She couldn't stand, though, because Kimimaro was tightly grasping her hands, refusing to let her go. So, with as much dignity as she could muster, Sakura politely inclined her head in her brother's direction.

"Oh… you were the guest Itachi was talking about," Sakura said without any inflection in her tone. Deidara rolled his cerulean eye as he took a step forward.

"He gave me the basic story. In short, Orochimaru fucked you over, right?" Deidara flatly said, unusually succinct. Sakura slowly nodded as she stared her brother in the face. He was somewhere in his early forties now, although he always denied this and claimed that he was just past 35. The smile glittering in his eyes had long faded and had been quickly replaced by the same icy calculation as the one their father had possessed. In spite of that, she couldn't hate him. As Deidara turned to look Gaara over, his hair shifted and she caught a glimpse of the diabolical scope wedged into his eye socket. She quickly looked away when he felt her stare and turned back to her. But he wasn't fooled and the corners of his mouth lifted in a faint smile.

"Well I'm glad you're alright… well…. Mostly alright," Deidara stated, his gaze lingering unhappily on her cheek.

"What are you planning on doing, Nii-sama?" Sakura prompted, her eyes narrowing.

Since Danzo's death 10 years ago, the complex systems of the underground had splintered into many rogue pieces. After countless wars and assassinations, there were just five super-powers remaining, centered in the five cities of Konoha, Ame, Oto, Iwa and Mizu. Technically, each had the power to destroy the other, but alliances and threats kept them in a tenuous state of stalemate that had lasted for nearly four years. Orochimaru's actions had effectively shattered that strained peace with his betrayal. And although there were no formal agreements, everyone knew that Iwa was unswervingly loyal to Konoha, even if Konoha didn't hold the same sentiments. So by all standards, Deidara was her ally, but Sakura regarded her brother with the same, suspicion she used on everyone else.

"Why? You want me to turn around and shoot you too?" Deidara snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. She stared at him for a long time before she redirected her gaze to Kimimaro who was still holding her hands tightly.

"Well, for the time being, we know that Mizu can't be trusted completely. I have reason to believe that Madara's been working with that snake behind my back," she finally said as she stared at Kimimaro pointedly until he finally released her. They tingled almost painfully as the blood rushed back into her fingers. His hands lightly grasped her wrists apologetically and she absently nodded before she pulled free completely.

"Don't rule him out yet. Madara doesn't understand the meaning of loyalty. If he thinks you're stronger, he won't hesitate to slit Orochimaru's throat," her brother added with a pensive expression. Sakura nodded as she reached up with her hand and passed it over her cheek, letting the watery remnants of her chakra knit together the open cut. It was just enough to stop the bleeding and fuse the top layer of skin together before her weakened chakra fizzled out again.

"What are you going to do?"

At Deidara's question, Sakura felt her head moving until she was staring at Gaara who was still silently perched on the windowsill with his legs curled up to his chest. His jade eyes narrowed as he stared right back at her. Slowly, the corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk.

"For the time being, nothing. Stay on alert. He might come after you next," Sakura finally said, her lips pressing into a thin line. Deidara followed her line of sight and fixed Gaara with a glare even as he nodded.

"Alright," Deidara agreed although he looked supremely unhappy about her decision. He shot Gaara another loaded look before he took a step towards Sakura. His hand hovered unsurely by her shoulder, like he wanted to pat it. But she smoothly ignored this as she quickly shook his hand and turned away from him, making it clear that she was done talking. Deidara cleared his throat loudly before he crossed the room with echoing footsteps that were audible until he stepped out of the apartment.

"Can he be trusted?" Gaara spoke up while he jerked his head towards the place Deidara had stood. He had been silent during the entire exchange, only now breaking his role as a permanent part of the wall. Sakura snorted quietly as she looked up at him. He unfolded from his perch and stood, cool green eyes glancing in the direction of the door.

"Of course not," was her simple retort.

* * *

They spent two days at her small apartment tucked away in some obscure part of downtown Ame. Each time Sakura fell asleep, her cell phone would ring, jolting her out of her attempt at rest until Gaara grew exasperated at the thing and flung it at Itachi, leaving Sakura to rest in silence. Although she half-heartedly protested, Kimimaro insisted that she take the bed. After her healing, his abdomen was still raw and sore, but he was well enough to walk and proved this by taking a pillow and retreating to the small guest room tucked away by the kitchen. So Sakura curled up on the soft bed and slept and slept and slept until the exhaustion ebbed just enough for the haze in her head to retreat.

Gaara sat on the windowsill like a permanent fixture, only moving to use the bathroom or to grab a quick bite to eat before returning to his place, almost like a dog chained to its doghouse. Although she hadn't seen the brothers, she had heard enough between her bouts of sleep to know that there had been a significant amount of yelling on Sasuke's part to the point that she was glad that she had had all the walls and floors soundproofed. But the few times Itachi checked in on her, his strangely peaceful expression was more than enough to decipher what had happened.

At some point during the first night, she bolted awake, hands groping for the familiar shape of the katana left under her pillow. But this wasn't her room at home and all she felt was the cool softness of the mattress under groping hands. In the unfamiliar darkness, the hissing voices seeped into her ears and eyes until she couldn't remember where anything was anymore. So she wrapped her arms around her middle, reaching out in the blackness. She almost called for Itachi; his name tingled on the tip of her tongue. But the mattress dipped under alien weight and there were warm, rough hands on her bare shoulders.

"Sakura?"

Not Hime.

Just:

"Sakura, what's wrong?"

She wanted to sob with relief as the scent of sandalwood and cigarettes flowed over her. His lips pressed against her hair as her fingers dug into the front of his shirt. She didn't even need to ask him to and his strong arms snaked around her. It had been so long since the quiet nights in her dingy apartment in Konoha. They had lain together on the cold floor, him on his back and her lying on his stomach, matching their palms together and half-squabbling as they shared one of her cigarettes, even as he complained, calling them "fancy French shit". Other times they would be sitting on the roof of the high school and we would stupidly ask her if it was okay to kiss her, even though they both knew she would refuse. And because he was so infuriatingly arrogant and stubborn, he would grab her and kiss her anyway, laughing even when she punched him hard enough to bruise.

The memories flowed after one another in a jumbled torrent that made her heart squeeze unbearably tight. And to her horror, her throat began to burn as the familiar tingle of tears tugged at her eyes.

"Gaara, am I beautiful?" she whispered into the darkness. He hesitated for a moment and then he pulled her closer and put his mouth against her ear.

"Maybe to everyone else. But not to me," Gaara replied and irrational panic flooded her chest. She knew that neither of them could see, but she still stared at where his face would be.

"What… am I to you then?"

For an awful moment, she thought he wouldn't answer, that he would let his ambiguous words hang over her. A heavy sigh escaped him.

"You're… twisted and deadly… and you're beautiful on the outside… but not on the inside," Gaara hissed, his hands sliding up to cup her cheeks. Something about the biting tone of his words made her shiver. She sucked in a shaky breath, trying to force the hot tears back into her eyes through sheer will. But the traitorous drops spilled outwards, trailing down her cheeks and wetting his fingertips.

"Hey. Can I kiss you?" he inquired in the same, unchanging tone he had always used. A hiccupping snort left her as she shook her head. Her eyes had started to become accustomed to the dark and she could see the outline of his smirk as he hovered above her. In fact, her gaze was glued to his mouth as he drew closer until his bangs brushed her forehead.

"Too bad," Gaara replied before he pressed his lips to hers with the same gentleness that brought back memories of a quiet hotel room and her cool toes pressing against his leg. They pulled apart and she felt rather than saw his smile. He dipped his head and placed a soft, lingering kiss on the nape of her neck. She put her palm on his chest, ready to push him away. But the sudden silence struck her and she suddenly realized that the inky shapes writhing in the darkness and twisting into her ears were gone. With Itachi, they retreated back into dark corners, hovering and waiting. But for some strange reason, in that moment, there was nothing but the cool quiet of the winter night.

"What?" Gaara whispered against her ear before his hands slipped around her waist, pulling her close against him.

"Nothing. It's nothing," she replied with wonder that he would never understand. She saw the faint lift of his eyebrow. But she shook her head and he didn't press any further. Instead, she wiggled her hands out from beneath his chest and tugged at the bottom of his shirt. Something lit up in his gaze that faded when he saw that it wasn't reflected in her gaze. Still, he sat up and she immediately missed the warmth of his body hovering over hers. As he pulled his shirt off, she observed the toned musculature that she had long ago admired and recognized. But when he twisted around to toss his shirt onto the windowsill, she caught sight of the curious tattoo she had only gotten a brief glimpse of before. It was a black and gold dragon twisting around his right hip and writhing up the length of his back. Its fearsome jaws stopped just under his right shoulder blade. Unthinkingly, she reached out and touched one of its long teeth with the tip of her fingers. His skin felt hot under her curious fingers. Gaara twisted back around when he felt her poke.

"When did you get this?" Sakura asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Right after I turned 22. My brother got a matching one on his left side," Gaara replied and Sakura ran her finger along the tattoo, taking in the details of the individual scales and the curved talons on its hands.

"Oh," she simply said for lack of a better response. His mouth pulled up into a strangely empty smile that seemed to agree with her. What else was there to say about the decade's worth of things that they didn't know about each other? Instead, she took his hands and guided them to her chest, leaving them where the top button of her blouse. And the smile slid straight off his face as he glanced up at her expression again.

"Really?" Gaara asked.

"That's not it," she assured him, seeing the hopeful glint in his gaze. His eyes narrowed as they trailed back down to her chest. After a moment of consideration, he quickly popped open the buttons of her blouse, revealing the lacy maroon bra underneath. She heard him suck in a deep breath. The backs of his hands grazed the silky material and she shivered. But, heaving a deep sigh, his hands fell uselessly to his sides.

"This isn't right," he muttered more to himself than to her. It wasn't a snort or a sneer that left Sakura as she sat up to get a better look at his face. An actual breathy laugh washed over him as she winded her arms around his neck. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked her straight in the eyes with a sad resignation that made her chest ache.

"Nothing's right anymore," Sakura said with a little laugh and he responded with a grim expression.

"Maybe you're right," Gaara sighed.

"And that wasn't what I was asking for," she continued as she combed her fingers through his thick crimson hair. He pulled back his head enough so that he could look at her face. But the unspoken question in his expression faded when he looked into her eyes. A low sigh trickled from his mouth and the warm air skated across her throat.

"Oh," he quietly said without any inflection. He rested his forehead against her bare shoulder for a moment. And then, without lifting his head, he reached around slowly, almost reverently pulled the clasp of her bra open.

Tentative touches, faint caresses.

Sakura sighed softly as she pressed her bare chest against his, warm flesh touching warm flesh. The steady thumping of their hearts fluttered between them. He wrapped his arms around her and it almost startled her how easily she fit into that space, like it had been created just for her. When he pressed his hands against her back, his palms were big enough to cover most of her exposed skin and it made her wonder if he had always been so much bigger than she was.

It was simple to fall asleep like that, with a warm cocoon surrounding her and the lullaby of another person's breathing washing over her. He succumbed to slumber long before she did, nuzzling his face against the side of her neck. It was the bliss that normally followed an act that made her feel so hollow and small and fragile. And even though none of that had occurred, she still felt that way, pale and empty. As if he felt the same way, even in sleep, Gaara would occasionally let out a low, rough breath and tighten his hold on her, like she would disappear if he didn't keep her close.

Just as her eyelids began to droop and slowly fall, the door to the bedroom creaked open and a familiar shape stood, watching. Itachi's eyes burned bright red as he took in the scene, undoubtedly misinterpreting the situation. She saw his hand twitch toward the gun hidden under his jacket and she deliberately shifted her weight, rolling them over so that her body covered his. Gaara's hands slipped lower, resting on the small of her back. She lifted her head to look over her shoulder and shoot Itachi one last warning stare before she settled her cheek against Gaara's burning chest. After another moment, she heard a quiet scoff before the door creaked shut, leaving just a thin sliver of light that spilled over them. As she closed her eyes and finally prepared to sleep, she could have sworn that she heard him whisper her name.

She woke well after noon the next day with sluggishness that made her feel like she had been sleeping for over a week. To her surprise, when she opened her eyes, she was still held securely in Gaara's arms, although, at some point during the night, he had rolled over so that she was tucked between the mattress and his body, like he was guarding her from the door. She almost smiled. She had forgotten how overprotective he was capable of becoming. When she pulled free from his arms, he didn't shift, like most people did, to fill the empty space. His arms and legs stayed in the same place, like he was saving a spot for her. Shivering, she scanned the floor for her shirt. For a moment, she considered pulling on Gaara's shirt, but Itachi's murderous stare came into mind and she instead went to the armoire in the corner of her room and put on her bra before slipping into a tight black long-sleeved shirt. When she slipped into the hallway, she was unsurprised to see Itachi looming over the door. Deliberately ignoring his silent fury, she ducked under his arm and walked straight past him.

"Sasuke and Kimimaro?" she inquired as she made her way to the kitchen. The coffee pot was full and she poured herself a generous cup.

"Kimimaro's been sleeping in the guest room and Sasuke's standing guard outside," Itachi shortly replied. Sakura hummed in a distant sort of voice as she lifted the mug to her mouth. When her lips touched the porcelain rim, her eyes rose to meet Itachi's.

"Is something bothering you, Itachi? You're making a rather frightening face," she innocently said as a wry smile tilted the corner of her mouth. Unflinching, she took a sip of the bitter coffee and set it back on the counter.

"That should be fairly obvious," he retorted. As he spoke, his lips barely moved. Sakura lifted an eyebrow at him as she reached across the counter and grabbed the box of cigarettes propped up against the coffee maker. She fished one of the white sticks out and held it out to him. He hesitated for a moment, most likely considering rebellion. But then he reached into his pocket for a lighter and obliged. Sakura didn't respond as she took a long breath from her cigarette and expelled a dark stream of smoke from the corner of her mouth. After a few minutes, she dunked the cigarette in the remnants of her warm coffee, listening, with satisfaction, to the weak sizzle.

She spent the rest of the day on the phone, seducing every possible ally with the sweetest words and terrorizing others with threats that burrowed straight into the core. In between, she contacted Konoha where a woman by the name of Tsunade had been put into power as her replacement. Although she appeared young, younger than Sakura, Tsunade had been the one who had taken Sakura under her wing and educated her in the delicate arts of chakra manipulation and healing. The art had once been a powerful tool used by ninjas long before the rise of western civilization, but as technology had grown more influential, the secrets of chakra had been lost to all but a few. Upon remembering this, Sakura glanced down at her hand and examined the scorch marks spread across her palms and fingertips. Chakra burns were an inevitable side-effect of expelling so much chakra at once and the wounds that resulted couldn't be healed with chakra. Scrunching her nose, she picked at the blackened skin for a moment before she returned to her phone calls.

Around sunset, Gaara emerged from the bedroom, his crimson mane a wild mess around his head. Although Itachi's expression more than conveyed his desire to cause bodily harm, he did nothing but glance warily in her direction before opting for ignoring the red-head completely.

Gaara hadn't bothered to put a shirt on so he meandered around barefoot, pouring himself coffee and eating a slice of toast before going to take a shower. At the sound of water running through the pipes, Sakura paused in the middle of dialing yet another phone number. She glanced up and met Itachi's dark eyes. When she jerked her head in the direction of the bathroom, his irises flashed red as he rose to go get the spare men's clothes she kept in her armoire for emergencies.

The second night, Sasuke came up to the apartment while Itachi went down to stand guard. As he walked past her, Sakura caught a glimpse of Sasuke's face and she almost didn't recognize him. Without the usual look of frustration on his face, it was hard to tell who it really was. Apparently, he and Itachi had had a good talk because as the brother's passed, they nodded at each other and the simple action conveyed much more than words could. Almost as soon as he washed up and ate, Sasuke slumped over on the couch, fast asleep. Sakura tore herself away from the phone long enough to grab a handful of fruit to swallow until she glanced up at the clock on the wall and realized that it was nearly 2 am. As soon as her body realized how late it was, a yawn tore from her mouth so she dropped everything and went to check up on Kimimaro who had slept through the entire day. Finding him still asleep, she crossed the hall and nudged the door to her bedroom with her foot. Gaara was already curled up in the middle of the bed, back to the door. When she took a few steps inside, he stirred and wearily lifted his head to look at her, making the toned muscles in his back ripple.

"Go back to sleep," she said in a hushed voice as she brushed past him. He nodded faintly before his head fell back onto the pillows. When she sat on the edge of the bed a few minutes later, she couldn't see his face, but she knew he wasn't asleep.

"Hey Gaara," Sakura finally whispered after she had been sitting for a while. He didn't speak but he pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist. She heaved a heavy sigh as she pressed her forehead against his arm.

"Are you still in love with me?" she inquired. Almost immediately, he let out a tired chuckle.

"What a stupid question. Of course I am," Gaara retorted in slow, slurred sounds.

And for some odd reason, his words brought a small smile to her lips. She scoffed as she laid down, letting him pull her close, palms smoothing over her back and shoulder blades.

"Then you're still an idiot," she muttered.

"And you're still a bitch."

The shadows lay quietly in the corners, neither stirring nor murmuring. The inky darkness was simply the absence of light, nothing more.

She let herself drift, let herself remember the times when she remembered how to smile properly. And she remembered the times when the taste of French cigarettes lingered on her tongue.

* * *

By the time Sakura returned to her mansion on the outskirts of Ame, the whispers of war had already thickened the air. As soon as she stepped out of the car, Sasori was there, his gold eyes strangely uneasy. He bent to bring his mouth close to her ear.

"Zetsu found Zabuza and Haku this morning."

Sakura hesitated for a moment, her fingers curling into Sasori's shoulder. He didn't flinch under what must have been a painful sensation as she squeezed his bones so tight that the creaking of the fabric of his jacket was audible. After a long time, she seemed to realize what she was doing and released him.

"My office," she ordered. But before she could take another step, Sasori took her arm.

"Zabuza is incapable of using stairs at the moment. Perhaps somewhere on the first floor would be a better location," Sasori suggested, his expression grim. Sakura nodded silently before she beckoned a hand in Itachi's direction and he took a step forward.

"Get me Zetsu. I don't care what he's doing. Tell him it's urgent," Sakura instructed and she watched Itachi's lips thin minutely. But he swallowed down whatever words rose from the back of his throat and dipped his head in a faint bow before he took off. Sakura watched his back for a second before she pushed past Sasori and entered her mansion where she was met by the usual greetings of the head-housekeeper and maids lined up by the staircase.

"Tea in the parlor for three please," she said to Utatane who nodded her gray head. A trembling maid took Sakura's black jacket, carefully folding the smooth fabric over her arm. When she heard a strange commotion behind her, she peeked over her shoulder and found Hidan standing at the top of the stairs. His violet eyes narrowed in on Gaara and his white teeth glinted as his lips parted in a sneer.

"What the fuck are you two little shits doing back here?" Hidan snarled and Sakura watched Gaara's jade eyes narrow.

"They're with me, Hidan. Calm down," Sakura interjected in a low tone that made the entire room grow a few degrees colder. But Hidan ignored her as he stalked down the stairs and stopped just in front of Gaara. Jabbing his finger into Gaara's chest, he leered.

"Are you fucking deaf or something, jackass?"

Gaara's eye twitched as he smacked Hidan's hand away. Hidan's sinister grin only widened as he reached into his jacket for the bulge of his gun. In the blink of an eye, Sakura stepped between them and the back of her hand struck Hidan's cheek. His neck let out a loud crack at the force of her blow but his hand froze.

"I said, calm down, Hidan," Sakura said in the same level tone. Hidan stared blankly down at the ground, even as his cheek turned a startling shade of crimson. The fingers of his free hand twitched a little in her direction but Sakura ignored him as she turned to Utatane.

"Have rooms arranged for my two guests in the east wing please," she requested and the older woman calmly bowed in response.

"We'll talk later, Hidan," Sakura threw out in a cold voice as she turned. While she made her way to the parlor, she felt his blank gaze drilling into her back. She pushed the incident to the back of her mind as she settled on the black divan and tucked her legs neatly under her, discarding her red high heels on the plush carpet. As soon as she was seated comfortably, Utatane arrived bearing a heavy silver tray.

"If I may be so bold as to speak, Hime," Utatane began as she lowered the tray onto the glass coffee table. Sakura raised an eyebrow at her but nodded for her to continue.

"I believe it unwise that you continue to tolerate the Jashinist. His ill temper and his continual harassment of the staff has become a little more than troubling," the old woman stated as she poured tea with a steady hand. The corner of Sakura's mouth tilted up as she accepted the white porcelain cup decorated with pink and red flowers.

"Worcester. A fine choice," Sakura remarked before she took a sip.

"As for the matter of Hidan, I'll handle him personally. But I do greatly appreciate your honesty with me," she continued. Although she didn't look too convinced, Utatane firmly closed her mouth and bowed again before she took quiet steps out of the room. Sakura took another sip of her tea as she turned her head to look out the window. The garden in the back yard was a lush paradise of green that clashed against the pale sky. Her attention was pulled from the trimmed topiaries when she heard a faint rustle. Deceptively feminine features peered out at her past the doorway.

"Hime. You're alright," Haku breathed as he rushed out of the room to greet her. But he stopped short when Sakura, hands shaking, hurriedly set her tea cup back on the tray with a clatter. One of his eyes was nearly swollen shut and ugly purple splotches marked the visible parts of his neck. His bandaged hands hung awkwardly in the air as he tried to figure out what to do. Finally, heaving a deep sigh, she gestured to the seat across from her.

"And Zabuza?" she inquired as the boy sat.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Hime," a gruff voice called from the doorway. Haku jumped to his feet as he ran over to help the tall man stagger to the couch. Sakura's gaze sharpened as she took in his limp and the blackened mess of his head and throat. And from the way he moved, she could tell that something awful had happened to his back. He had hastily wrapped bandages around the lower half of his face but the crimson soaking through the linen easily betrayed his attempt to hide the extent of his injuries. Zabuza's dark eyes squeezed shut as Haku lowered him into his seat. Sakura waited for Haku to sit and for Zabuza to catch his breath before she spoke.

"I apologize… to both of you," she finally said.

"If I had known what Orochimaru and Madara were planning, I never would have sent the two of you alone. I'll be sure to take responsibility for both of you if complications arise as a result of my oversight," Sakura clarified as she glanced up at them. Haku looked over at Zabuza with wide eyes while Zabuza stared directly at Sakura.

"Thank you, Hime. But you might want to take back that promise once you hear what I have to say," Zabuza replied, wincing as he tried to shift into a more comfortable position. Sakura, who had been reaching for her tea cup, let her hand fall back to her side. She remained frozen in that position even when Utatane returned to pour tea for the others and retreated again.

"Explain," she ordered in a quiet voice.

"The twins are dead. I saw their corpses hung in Orochimaru's torture chamber-"

"Sakon and Ukon… are dead?" Sakura whispered as she pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and pointer finger. Among her promising followers that had been abducted along with Kimimaro, Sakon and Ukon had been among her favorites. Madara, undoubtedly knowing this, had chosen to slap her across the face with their murders. Haku slowly nodded with wide eyes.

"….And?" Sakura prompted when she sensed Zabuza's apprehension hovering in the air.

"Orochimaru and Madara have formed a partnership of sorts and they've planted spies everywhere… including Konoha. I heard Madara mention that he plans to steal Konoha from you," the tall man informed her, his eyes glued to hers. When he finished, he continued to watch her, anticipating her response. But Sakura was silent as she looked down at her hands, thinking. After a few minutes, she got to her feet, prompting the two to try and do the same. But when she looped around the coffee table, they both froze.

"I'll send a doctor for you soon. You've done very well," she murmured as she stroked the top of Zabuza's head. He sagged tiredly against her hand. When she graced Haku with a faint smile, his tense shoulders relaxed.

"Utatane, please help Zabuza back to his room and have someone tend to him," Sakura called over her shoulder and the old woman instantly appeared in the doorway.

Sakura hooked her shoes over her fingers and left the parlor without another word. Her face was rigid with the weight of the news she had just received. Unsurprisingly, Hidan was still hovering in the foyer, his violet eyes nonchalant. Even with the bruise darkening nicely on his cheek, he arrogantly raised his head when she stopped in front of him.

"Later, Hidan. I'm in no mood to deal with you," she sighed when their eyes met. He scoffed, shoving his hands roughly into his pockets but didn't protest. But as she began climbing the stairs, his voice echoed off the tile.

"You're fucking him, aren't you? That shitty little brat." Hidan's snarled accusation was incredibly loud, bouncing off the ceiling and ringing in her ears.

"That, I believe, is none of your business, Hidan. I'm going to ask you while I still have some amount of patience. Would you be a dear and go help Sasori?" Sakura lightly replied in as pleasant a tone as she could manage. But her irritation leaked through, roughening the edges of her words.

"No."

She couldn't control the anger that exploded past the already tenuous hold on her temper. Her chakra boiled through, angry flames of green sizzling off her arms as she turned to stare Hidan directly in the eyes. The full weight of her presence slammed down on him and she could see him flinch visibly from the effort it took not to immediately drop to his knees.

"Go," she snapped. And although his gaze was still full of rebellion, fear tinged the edges of his expression. His adam's apple bobbed as he quickly swallowed and gave her a jerking nod. He walked off as quickly as he could without appearing to run, still trying to defy her even when he was terrified. When Hidan was out of sight, she took a deep breath and let the flames on her arms die out. Faint wisps of green floated off of her as she climbed the rest of the stairs with heavy footfalls. At the top of the stairs, Kimimaro was leaning against the banister, his pale eyes searching hers.

"I don't understand why you tolerate such behavior, Sakura-sama. One man is easily replaceable," Kimimaro flatly said as she brushed past him. He fell into step beside her as she made her way to her room.

"Secrets don't die with the living, Kimimaro. It's not as easy as you think," Sakura sighed in response. She stopped in her doorway and he did too as a furrow appeared between his eyebrows.

"I… don't understand people," he admitted. Sakura met his stare with a humorless smile.

"You think I do?"

* * *

_Sometimes, I have these strange rushes of tenderness. I want to take all these beautiful, bleeding people in my hands and kiss them and hold them close, tears and blood mixing until everything flows pink. _

_But I always remind myself that something like that's impossible._

_Since I'm just as broken as they are._

_What is it that makes them think that I'm any less dysfunctional than they are? Is it because I know how to smile? But that's just because I've forgotten how to cry. Is it because I can get out of bed in the morning? That's just because my dreams are so hollow that it scares me more to sleep than to face this big, empty world. And the shadows of all the voices that have ever whispered in my life cling to me, a shell, a second skin that claws and tears and tears and TEARS until I have nothing left to give._

_In the midst of their nightmares, they reach for me, begging for me to forgive them, asking me to save them._

_Don't they see me? Clawing at my own hands in front of the mirror because I'm so sure that my bones are gone?_

_But at the same time, I cling to these dear ones who grasp frantically for me. _

_This is worse than the blind leading the blind._

_It's a leper on top of a cliff, holding onto people who have slipped off the edge and are about to fall to their deaths. The tendons in her hands begin to stretch, to rot in place. And she knows that these poor creatures will be dashed to pieces on the rocks, left as a sacrifice for the birds that scavenge the shores. But instead of being humane, saying the truth, she spills sweet deceit into their heads._

_"I'll never let you go,"__she lies._

_And even as her fingers break and the flesh tears and they're sent plummeting, the dear ones who loved her and will always love her, look up at her with wide-eyed looks of adoration._

_A scream erupts and I can't tell if it's mine anymore._

* * *

__Reviews please. If I get enough reviews, I'll consider posting a bonus chapter featuring Sakura and one of the members of Akatsuki.


	6. White

Merry Christmas! I hope everyone is enjoying the holidays. After a few days of human food and sleep on a good bed, I managed to get some work done. So, this extra-long chapter is my gift to all you wonderful readers.

Enjoy!

* * *

Nightshade

Chapter 5: White

_I don't remember exactly who it was, but someone once asked me if I was dead inside. _

_At first, I was mildly amused. It was funny to me that this insignificant person whose name I could no longer remember was trying to intimidate me. The automatic "no" that should have formed in my mouth was missing though. So I stood, staring, trying to force myself to laugh at what should have been ridiculous. But the longer I thought, the more I realized that I couldn't bring myself to say that one syllable._

_So I had him disposed of. Another pile of ashes processed at the warehouse._

_But lately, the shadows seem to find enjoyment in pulling up those words again and again. I sit at my desk late at night, staring at the wood and watching the ash slowly drop from the end of my cigarette. The repulsive smell of menthols clogs my nose and I stub it out against the ashtray, listening to the quiet hiss of death. I close my eyes and the whispers hovering near my ear turn into a cacophony of angry jeers. _

"_You're dead inside, aren't you?" they challenge me. I exhale loudly, trying my best to drown out the laughing voices. But they cackle, clawing at the insides of my ears._

"_DEAD. YOU'RE DEAD."_

"_Shut up," I whisper, pressing my hands against my ears to drown out the noises. Another keening laugh shatters the quiet._

"_DEAD INSIDE."_

"_Are you alright?"_

_The quiet voice breaks through the rush of chattering shrieks and I lift my head. Itachi stands in the doorway, his eyes bright red as they search for threats in the room. The din quiets but doesn't disappear._

"_I'm fine," I hear my voice reply, disjointed and faint. His forehead furrows but he doesn't try to push me for more information. Even footsteps cross the hardwood, echoing a million times in the cold room. He skirts around the desk, placing his warm hands on my face._

"_It's late. You should get some rest," he says as his eyes fade to grey. _

"_Dead," the thin voice whispers again with a mocking echo of a laugh._

* * *

Sakura kissed Kimimaro's cool cheek before she slipped into her bedroom, quickly closing the door behind her. But he undoubtedly caught a glimpse inside because his chakra spiked angrily. Sakura pursed her lips as she turned and regarded Gaara sitting on her windowsill with a shake of her head. His jacket was neatly folded and left on the ledge beside him and his heavy boots were lined up neatly by the armoire.

"What are you doing in here? I thought you were with Sasuke," Sakura demanded as she tossed her shoes in a corner and crossed the room, rubbing the back of her neck.

"He's off with his brother. It didn't feel right to butt in," Gaara replied without looking away from the window. Sakura sighed in agreement as she gathered her hair into a loose knot at the base of her skull and snatched a stray pencil off of the dresser to stick it through. As she pulled her shirt over her head, a sudden thought came to her. Tossing the shirt into her hamper, she turned back to him.

"How are your brother and sister?" she inquired. Gaara tilted his head over his shoulder to look at her. The shadows around his jade eyes seemed to grow darker as he smirked at her.

"Temari's dead."

She sucked in a deep breath, feeling like someone had just punched her in the gut.

"Oh," she whispered as she shimmied out of her pants and pulled on a silk lilac nightgown.

"And… Kankurou?" Sakura prompted cautiously.

"Married with two kids."

She nodded without comment, hands coming to rest on her hips as she thought. She could feel him watching her carefully, jade eyes intense but unthreatening. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him swing his legs off the windowsill before he jumped off. He was almost like a cat, silently landing on the floor and stalking over to her.

"What are you really doing here?" she asked in a tired voice as she sunk into the armchair beside the bed.

"Thought you might want your nightlight," Gaara replied with a shrug, pointing to himself with his thumb. Sakura scoffed as she rubbed at her tired eyes, smearing eyeliner across her fingers. But he seemed undaunted by her reaction as he calmly sat on the edge of the bed closest to her.

"Don't patronize me," Sakura snorted as she rubbed her temples, squeezing her eyes shut. But Gaara didn't respond and only fixed her with his level stare. She huffed as she got to her feet and slipped into the bathroom. To her irritation, Gaara followed and leaned against the doorframe, not speaking, simply watching. As she began erasing her make-up, Gaara disappeared for a moment and then returned to his spot.

"What's this?" he questioned as he held something out to her. Sakura looked over and found him holding onto a thin silver chain with a delicate fan hanging from it. Smirking, she plucked it from his hands and, with a serious of quick movements, moved the sections of the fan around to extract tiny senbon. When she squeezed one of the ends, sinister green liquid dripped from the opposite tip.

"I had it custom-made and imported here," she explained as she reassembled the fan and handed the jewelry back to Gaara who carefully pinched it between his fingers and examined it with a newfound sense of trepidation. He peered around the doorway where her dresser stood, focusing on the large jewelry box sitting on top.

"…. That's a little frightening but not unexpected from you," he flatly remarked and Sakura chose to ignore him as she washed her face and patted her skin dry with a fluffy towel. Gaara fell silent again as she brushed her teeth and reached around to pull the pencil free. As her short hair fell into her face, the fragrance of her shampoo spread and she turned just in time to see him inhaling deeply.

"Not going to bed then?" she asked even though she already knew the answer. But this time Gaara didn't smirk or give any indication that he was being less than serious.

"I think I'll hang out here for a while," Gaara simply said in response, slipping his hands into his pockets. She glared at him for a moment as he blocked her path out of the bathroom. He raised his eyebrows at her, like he didn't understand until she, sighing impatiently, ducked under his arm and into her bedroom.

And he did stay

Just like in her small apartment, he settled comfortably on the bay window, his left leg dangling over the edge. The only real difference was that the bed was pushed into the corner of the room, near the wall. Sakura curled up on the side closest to him. When she reached out, she lightly touched his knee.

"Why are you still here?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper. Gaara turned his head to look out the window for a moment. The gauzy white curtains fell around him, obscuring his expression even when he looked back at her. He exhaled in one drawn-out breath that seemed to go on forever.

"Because I'm an idiot, remember?" he finally replied in an almost bitter tone. She knew from the set of his shoulders and the way his eyes darted to her that he wanted some sort of reaction from her, any indication that she cared. But she couldn't muster anything for him. Maybe the faintest traces of pity and a little bit of nostalgia. Everything else had gone dry long ago.

"Good night, Gaara," Sakura said and the corner of his mouth drew down into a frown.

"Yeah," he muttered in response as he drew the curtains closed around him, blocking out the feeble light from the streetlamps outside.

She knew that they were lurking there, hovering in the crevices, waiting for her to close her eyes. So when she settled back onto the pillows to sleep, the familiar crescendo of hissing voices welled up inside her ears. But the clamor was just barely manageable, just soft enough that she drifted into an uneasy slumber. As the edges of consciousness blurred, she felt Gaara's hand lightly brush against her temple.

As always, sleep was a concept that eluded her. She bolted awake what seemed like a minute later with visions of blood streaming down her arms and coating her hands. More than that, more than the echoes of screeches that plagued her dreams, the angry swell of voices in her ears was what made her teeth grit together. It had become second nature to suppress the shriek that wanted to rise from her throat. And even though just her eyes had opened and she hadn't made any noise, she felt Gaara hovering at her side, his fingers just barely touching hers. She reached out into the sightless blackness for him. It was so dark and the only thing she could make out was his silhouette as he sat on the edge of the bed.

It was a moment of weakness that they both knew she would ignore in the morning. But they both let it happen. Gaara dipped his head to kiss her and she hiccupped as she leaned into him, looping her arms around his neck. But there was no passion in the kiss, no racing heartbeats and no moans of desire. Even when they pulled apart, neither of them was breathing any faster than usual. His hands slipped to her waist and she raised her arms to help him pull her short nightgown off in one motion. She didn't offer to help him as he unbuttoned his shirt and removed it along with the wife beater underneath.

Sakura crawled to the middle of the bed to make room for him. He slid under the thick comforter and soft sheets, surprised by how cold it was even though she had just been lying there. There was nothing but the muted noise of skin rubbing against fabric as she scooted over to him. Chest to chest, his warm arms pulling her close, Sakura finally relaxed. He smoothed his hand over her hair once and she knew that he probably felt the few tears that slipped out of her eyes. He was so warm and present and he was like a physical buffer against the dark shapes crawling in the corners of her room.

"It's so quiet," she whispered as she drifted back to sleep. She knew that he wouldn't understand, but she was grateful that he didn't ask.

Her body told her that she was awake just before dawn. Her internal clock rarely failed her. And as always, her limbs were already reacting before her mind was fully aware of what was going on. Even in the utter darkness, she knew where she was. She could feel his arms locked securely around her waist, his toned body moving underneath her as he breathed easily, undisturbed in his slumber. Eyes opened wide but unseeing, she smoothed her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, slipping them under the edge of the pillow to curl around the hilt of the sword hidden there. Gaara mumbled something in his sleep as she placed her palms flat on the mattress on either side of his head. When she pulled herself up a little, his hands slid lower on her back, resting just above her tailbone. The corner of her mouth twitched up a little. Perhaps it had been all the years of living with the knowledge that nearly all of the people she knew would be happy to see her dead, but the faintest murmurs and the tiniest stirrings of chakra always woke her.

"How blissful," she scoffed under her breath as she pushed against the top of the wooden sheath and silently pulled the sword free. With the sharp metal blade resting against the mattress, Sakura withdrew her hand and brought it back to rest more naturally against Gaara's shoulder.

"Hmm?" Gaara mumbled. Sakura glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the hallway. Her eyes had become accustomed to the dark and she could barely make out the tiniest hint of light slipping underneath the door. Bending over, she pressed her mouth against Gaara's ear.

"You need to pretend to still be asleep," she ordered in a barely audible voice. She waited for him to process her words before his eyes slowly opened. They were still hazy with sleep as he looked up at her. Something about the way he easily ran his hand up her bare back made a shiver run up her spine. She quickly swatted the hand back into place as she stared directly at him.

"Sleep," she mouthed and he seemed to read the urgency in her actions because his gaze darted towards the window and then to the door. They both tensed when there was a quiet knock on the door. Gaara jerked his chin towards her so she leaned over again, her short hair falling into his face.

"Too late. They'll know by my chakra that I'm awake. Follow my lead," he breathed and Sakura didn't have time to give him a questioning look before he reached up and pressed his hand against the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. She caught on quickly and didn't fight him as the door slowly creaked open and soft yellow light spilled onto the floor and bed like a river of gold. When she moved to look up, Gaara pulled her back in and nipped her bottom lip hard enough for it to hurt. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at him, she gave him her most alluring smile before she made a show of tearing herself away to face their new guest.

"Should I return at a later time?" Zetsu asked, arching an eyebrow. Gaara seemed to relax but she subtly tightened her hand into a claw, digging her nails into his chest. Still, she gave Zetsu a politely disinterested smile as she shook her head.

"What is it?" she prompted and the way his stare lingered on her bare breasts made her fingers twitch in the direction of the katana nestled safely underneath the pillows.

"I have some urgent news from Pein that I thought you needed to hear," he explained and Sakura sat up fully, her eyes narrowing.

"From Pein? But I just received word from him last night," Sakura said as she fixed Zetsu with a penetrating stare. And as she watched, a single drop of sweat rolled down his temple and cheek. With a sneer stretching her mouth, Sakura smoothly yanked the katana out from its hiding place and leapt from the bed. She swung the blade like a baseball bat through the air and the quiet was punctuated by a loud squelch. Still-hot blood splashed into her face, followed by a series of dull thuds as his head went bouncing down the hall. Sakura landed lightly on her feet, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She waited for a few moments and then there were footsteps racing towards her room and a sudden surge of chakra rushed through the mansion as people jolted out of their sleep.

Of course Itachi was the first to arrive, followed by Sasuke and then Kimimaro. Sasuke and Kimimaro stopped at the door to stare down at the headless body sprawled across the threshold while Itachi easily stepped over it and took her by the shoulders.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he scanned her face intently. Sakura nodded before she pulled free from his grasp and tilted her head to look back towards the bed. Gaara was standing already and as she watched, he tugged the sheets free and crossed the room to wrap the thin layer of fabric around her.

"You… cut off that domino guy's head…." Sasuke remarked. Sakura's mouth pulled up in a condescending smile.

"Of course not. Bring me his head," Sakura ordered just as Kisame and Sasori walked through the door, the former already holding the severed head by the ear. She could see Hidan lingering at the door, eyeing the corpse with outrage. Sakura lifted her hand, blue chakra gathering at her fingertips. She drew a line down the center of the face with her pointer finger before drawing her arm back under the sheet and waiting. Slowly, the green leeched from his hair and the individual strands began to warp, stretching and curling. The pale skin darkened in a warmer shade until it was absolutely clear that this person resembled Zetsu in no way.

"A transformation," Kisame remarked as he let the head fall at his feet.

"A very well-done transformation," Sasori added as Hidan pushed past the others to enter the room too. Hidan didn't say anything, simply looked at Sakura with uncertainty and she acknowledged his presence with a simple nod of her head. She noted the dark bruise spread across his cheek without sympathy.

"He knocked on my door. What a foolish man. Zetsu does everything in his power to avoid using doors," Sakura scoffed as she kicked at the head and sent it rolling to join the rest of its body.

"A spy?" Itachi guessed and Sakura crossed her arms over her chest.

"From Madara. This is too sloppy to be Orochimaru's work," Sakura agreed. She took a moment to glance towards the window and found that there were still some raindrops gently tapping against the glass.

"Well Pein and Konan are still away. Zetsu and Kakuzu?" Sakura directed the last part of her question to Hidan and the silver-haired man frowned.

"Kakuzu's still in Konoha. I talked to him yesterday morning," Hidan responded.

"…. Check on him later today," she told him and he nodded without complaint.

"Kakuzu might be a greedy bastard but do you really think he sold you out, Hime?" Kisame interrupted.

"No. I think with Madara's spies crawling all over Konoha, there's a high risk that he fell into a less-than-favorable situation. I shouldn't have sent him alone," Sakura sighed.

"As for Zetsu, Hime, he should be here soon. He was at Elysium to gather information," Sasori reported. Sakura felt Gaara hovering to her right, just over her shoulder. When she moved her head to look at him, his expression was sharp with suspicion.

"What is it?" she inquired and suddenly four additional pairs of eyes were focused on the red-head, as if he hadn't existed at all until Sakura had spoken to him.

"What's that shit Kabuto been doing?" asked Gaara and Sakura's mouth pulled up into a smile.

"Ah… our little friend. Well, he would be familiar enough with Zetsu's mannerisms enough to teach someone how to imitate them," Sakura reasoned. After another moment of thought, she placed her hand on Itachi's arm. She knew from the way his gaze lingered unhappily on Gaara that he was less than satisfied with the state he had found her in but she knew he wouldn't let his personal feelings get in the way. When she squeezed her fingers subtly around his bicep, Itachi's eyes returned to her.

"I need you to bring Konan and Pein to me as soon as possible. By tomorrow at the very latest. We have many things to discuss. I suspect that our phones have been tapped," Sakura instructed him. Itachi's eyes bled crimson as he nodded.

"Take Sasuke with you in case," she added as an afterthought when she looked up and saw the younger Uchiha still standing in the doorway. Itachi leaned forward to press a light kiss to the top of her head where blood hadn't spattered before he motioned to Sasuke and strode down the hallway with his brother on his heels.

"What about us, Hime?" Sasori queried.

"I need you two to stay here in Ame. I have the feeling that I will need to go to Konoha soon and I don't trust Pein here by himself. I'll need you to keep in touch with me," Sakura said and their expressions let her know just what they thought of Pein's god complex.

"Alright. In the meantime we'll have someone come clean this up," Kisame said as he glanced back at the body blocking the doorway. Sakura followed his gaze and realized that Kimimaro was gone.

Kisame and Sasori stayed for a while, ordering around a few underlings to carry the body away. Sakura stood by the door, arms crossed over her chest as she watched them work. When everyone was gone, she drifted to the armchair and sank into it while Gaara closed the door. He stood at the other side of the room, not saying anything. After a minute, he slipped into the adjoining bathroom and the squeak of the faucet punctuated the silence. Sakura looked down at her hand and rubbed half-heartedly at the flecks dried onto her wrist.

"That's not going to do anything," Gaara said with a hint of impatience as he sat on the armrest and grasped her wrist. He had one of her small face towels held in his other hand. Sakura watched as he ran the wet cloth over her skin, slowly rubbing away the blemishes. It felt terribly wrong in the quiet, his hands unnaturally gentle and her expression unnaturally soft.

It felt intimate.

"This isn't going to work. It's in your hair too," he grumbled as he passed the towel one last time over her clean arm.

"Stop. I'll do it myself," Sakura sighed as she got to her feet, shedding the blood-flecked sheet on the floor as she strode to the bathroom. In one quick push, she twisted the silver knob above the bathtub and watched it begin to slowly fill. Steam filled the bathroom, fogging up the mirror and window as she perched on the edge of the tub and occasionally skimmed her fingers through the top of the water. After a few minutes, she stood and slipped out of her black panties, back to the door since she was aware of Gaara still sitting, watching her.

The tub had high, sloping sides and she sank into the hot water until it reached her collarbones. She reached out to turn off the faucet before she took a deep breath and immersed herself completely in the water. When she emerged, she wiped the water out of her eyes and found Gaara in the same position, the now pink cloth held tightly in both his hands.

"It doesn't bother you?" he finally called out when she squeezed shampoo into her hand. She cast a distracted glance in his direction before she began running her fingers through her hair, working the shampoo into foamy bubbles.

"What are you talking about?" she snorted as she reached for the showerhead and sprayed clean water over her head, washing out the shampoo and blood.

"Being watched. Me staring at you while you're naked? That doesn't piss you off?" Gaara clarified as Sakura switched off the showerhead and finally turned around in the tub to face him. She arched an eyebrow at him.

"Why should it?" she retorted.

"Well, I guess it wouldn't. I mean you're so used to that right? Exposing yourself to strangers, screwing anyone that comes along," Gaara spat and Sakura felt a sting in her chest.

"… I don't sleep with every man I meet, Gaara," she replied in a soft voice as she looked down at her shoulder and rubbed at a spot of blood still there. She could hear his bare feet on the wood and then tile as he stalked over. He stood, waiting.

"I didn't sleep with you," Sakura added in an even quieter tone as she looked up at him. The fury in his face didn't surprise her. It reminded her of a discussion she had had with Hidan not too long ago. Gaara ground his teeth together before he threw the towel to the floor and sank into a crouch in front of her.

"Why didn't you?" he demanded, his fingers curling over the edge of the tub. But all of his anger seemed to grind to a halt when she smiled so hard that it felt like her skin might tear off of her face.

"Will you leave me if I tell you I'll never have sex with you?" she suddenly asked and he seemed surprised.

"Of course not. What kind of stupid question is that?" Gaara immediately threw back at her and she drew her hands out of the water, placing them over his.

"That's why. Because you won't hate me even if I don't. Everyone else… everyone else will leave me if I don't. They'll hate me," she whispered. After a moment, a watery laugh choked out of her throat.

"What am I saying? They already hate me," Sakura thought out loud. She exhaled and it felt like every fiber of her being deflated. Sagging against the edge of the tub, she covered her head with her arms. After a while, she peered up at Gaara through her hair and found him watching her like he was in absolute agony.

"What…. What kind of fucked up logic is that?" Gaara wheezed like he had been punched in the gut.

"Fucked up logic for a fucked up person like me. Fitting, isn't it?" Sakura laughed even as hot tears spilled out of her eyes. She sniffed as she lowered her head again so he wouldn't see.

"Don't do that, Sakura. Don't... **degrade** yourself for something as stupid as that," he groaned as he sat back on his heels. He ran his fingers roughly through his hair, staring at her like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. After a while, he exhaled heavily and got to his feet.

"Have you had sex with that Hidan jackass?" Gaara probed in a wary tone that made Sakura finally lift her head. She hadn't been crying but she knew that exhaustion was steeped into her expression. After a second, she wordlessly shook her head and Gaara's mouth stretched into the usual smirk.

"Good. Don't fuck him. I hate him already," the red-head shortly said and Sakura almost smiled too. When he began unbuckling his belt, she held out her hand to stop him and he almost looked hurt.

"Don't. There's blood in the water," she explained and they both looked down into the tub. Her skin was clean now and the water was still warm and clear. Gaara looked back up at her, arching an eyebrow and she glared.

"I'm going to assume that dead guy didn't have AIDS and say it's okay," Gaara retorted as he slipped off his pants and boxers and stepped into the opposite end of the bathtub. She curled up her knees to her chest, pulling herself into the smallest space possible while Gaara comfortably stretched out his legs. His toes just barely brushed against the side of her leg. Sakura couldn't help but stare as he cupped his hands in the water and splashed himself in the face. Droplets slid down the toned planes of his chest and abs and she cleared her throat as she looked away.

"Look at you, acting like a blushing virgin," Gaara scoffed and Sakura's upper lip twitched but she didn't say anything in response.

"You know, I think I know what your problem is, Haruno," the red-head suddenly declared and Sakura warily glanced at him out of the corners of her eyes.

"What?" she finally asked when he didn't continue his statement.

"You…" Gaara slowly said, pointing at her, "You need to love yourself more. At his blunt words, Sakura's expression suddenly grew cold. She twisted around in the tub and stood. The sharp silence stretched on as she plucked a towel from the heated rack and wrapped it around her middle before she stepped out. Water dripped from the tips of her hair, pooling on the cold tile.

"Am I wrong?" Gaara called after her as she stepped into her bedroom. She paused to look over her shoulder at him.

"It isn't that simple," she quietly told him.

* * *

She was angry at him. That was easy to tell.

But somehow, he had become her shadow. 10 years of living as strangers. And she seemed to somehow think it wise to trust him. Gaara shook his head as she let him trail after her as she discussed the most vital and private matters. For all her suspicion and hatred of others, she seemed to have given him her trust almost instantaneously. So she brought him along everywhere and sometimes, as someone spoke, she would glance his way, silently asking for his input. And all it took was a simple frown or a subtle nod of his head for her to understand. It was strange, but she valued his input.

Since some sources had reported seeing Orochimaru's cronies lurking in the area, Sakura chose not to leave the mansion. Instead, she called her underlings to her, asking for reports and assessing their loyalties in person.

At some point during the day, the soft-spoken silver-haired man wandered out of his room and into her office as she spoke to yet another guest. Gaara was standing behind her chair, leaning against the windowsill. He didn't see her face as the door creaked open but he did hear her voice as she beckoned him inside. He stood at one of the many bookshelves, leafing calmly through a random book he plucked out. Her guest was soon dismissed and he bowed low, trembling. As soon as the man scurried out, Kimimaro closed the door and turned to her. And Sakura's voice was suddenly so much softer and Gaara's eyes narrowed.

"What is it?" Sakura prompted him and Kimimaro set the book down before he approached the desk. His pale eyes momentarily rested on Gaara and he nodded respectfully so Gaara grudgingly returned the gesture. Keeping his eyes trained on Kimimaro, Gaara moved to perch on the left side of Sakura's desk, pretending to play around with her glass ashtray.

"How's your stomach?" Sakura said in a worried tone as she grasped Kimimaro's wrist and pulled him over to stand in front of her. She lifted the edge of his lose white tunic to reveal the puckered pink skin stretched over his torso like a jagged lightning bolt. When she gingerly touched the raw skin, he whimpered and Sakura's face immediately looked like her heart was breaking in two.

"This will be tender for a few weeks. I'm sorry I couldn't do a better job but my chakra reserves were so low," she sighed as she lowered his shirt and leaned back in her chair. Kimimaro shook his head as he sat on the desk in front of her, hands clasped tightly together in his lap.

"That's not why I'm here, Sakura-sama," Kimimaro began in a low voice and Gaara could see her shoulders tense up.

"There's something about the twins…. That I didn't have a chance to tell you before," he said.

"Zabuza and Haku reported that they were dead," Sakura interrupted, her eyebrows knitting together. But after a moment, her emerald eyes widened and she yanked up his shirt again, this time pulling the fabric higher. Her stare darted frantically around, searching for something. After a moment, Kimimaro gently disengaged from her grasp and instead pulled aside the collar of his shirt to reveal a strange black marking at the base of his throat. What sounded like the word "fuck" rattled up her throat as she ran her fingers along the black lines over and over again like she could erase it.

"Orochimaru was using us in a series of experiments in order to regain his youth."

Sakura looked like she was about to vomit but she didn't say anything.

"So Orochimaru was fascinated by my… talents… and he tried to find a way to…. Transfer his consciousness into my body," Kimimaro carefully said, his eyes measuring Sakura's expression warily. Sakura simply stared at him with a look of utter revulsion. Hands shaking, she lightly touched the marking on his chest again, questioning.

"He failed miserably. And I was unwilling to give in to his other demands."

Gaara raised an eyebrow at the same time that Sakura tilted her head.

"Demands?" Gaara interjected but he took one careful look at Kimimaro and he immediately understood.

"The twins… on the other hand… Orochimaru was fascinated by the idea of two genetically identical beings so he tried to combine them into one body. It broke them both. Sakon would lie awake at night, screaming for you, Sakura-sama, begging you to come save him. And Ukon lost the ability to speak. They became useless for Orochimaru so he handed them over to Madara."

"I see," Sakura finally responded after a long pause. Her hands were clenched so tightly that her skin looked completely white.

"If it's any comfort, Sakura-sama, both of them were mad by the time Madara got his hands on them. Death might have been the best thing for them," Kimimaro added before he dipped his head in a bow and quietly stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Sakura sat unmoving in her chair for close to ten minutes before she slowly lifted her head and turned to look out the window. The steady drizzle that had been dousing the entire city had come to an abrupt stop, as if someone had flipped a switch.

"Come, Gaara. We have guests," she said in such a thin voice that he almost didn't hear her. What surprised him was that she held out her hand to him and he automatically reached out, lacing his fingers through hers. The corner of her mouth lifted in her usual half-smile and he finally realized what that expression meant.

She was crying.

Without words and without tears, she was bleeding from a place that couldn't bleed. It was a scream that was so loud that he couldn't hear it.

"Stop that. It really pisses me off when you do that," Gaara snapped and for a moment, he could see the way she almost flinched. In that one moment, she was so pale, so colorless that he had to squeeze her hand to make sure it was still there. She squeezed back for an instant, her flat eyes looking away. But then she slipped past his fingers and walked straight past him.

Memories of her wielding a fresh katana all those years ago flooded back. The feel of her cool fingers touching his as she slipped a crumpled note into his hand. The sight of her bloodied, ragged back at the end of the tournament when she looked at him with the coldest eyes.

"_Don't touch me so casually, Sabaku."_

"Stop." The word that left his mouth wasn't a command. It was a plea as he pulled her against him, her arms hanging loosely at her sides. For one terrifying moment, she was limp, like she couldn't feel him right there, like she couldn't hear his voice. So he cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look up at him. And the emptiness plastered across her expression made him want to rip something apart with his bare hands.

"Why… why did he ask me to save him?" she inquired in a breathy voice that nearly went unnoticed. When Gaara realized what she was asking, he felt like laughing. Or vomiting.

"How the hell would I know?" he replied weakly, feeling like she had suddenly sucked all of the energy out of him. But she was staring intently at him, like she could lift answers straight from his eyes.

"Why would he wait for me? I abandoned him," Sakura insisted, her hands curling into the front of his shirt. Her lips continued to move but no sound came out. She was a fish gasping for air inside water, drowning in something that couldn't possibly drown her. It went on for a few minutes, her mouthing words to herself, gaze flickering blankly from his face and down to her hands. Finally, she lifted her head to look him straight in the eyes and there was no mistaking that she was seeing him and only him.

"Why do they keep asking me to save them, Gaara?" she asked in such an unexpectedly childlike tone that Gaara was thrown for a moment.

"Why do they ask me to save them when I can't even save myself?"

Her soft-spoken question lingered in the air, a mystery that pierced her soul. She didn't struggle when he pressed a light kiss to her temple. But she continued to stare at him, like he would somehow miraculously pull the answer out for her right then and there.

"I'm about as screwed up as you, Haruno. You're asking the wrong person too," Gaara simply said and her mouth curved up in the memory of a smile. Like she was coming out of a dream, her gaze suddenly sharpened with the cold calculation he was used to seeing.

"I wish you weren't so right all the time," Sakura sighed as she pulled free from his embrace. His hands lingered longingly over her back and arms as she took a step away. The hollow tap of her high heels against the floor echoed a billion times more than it should have. But this time, the smile she offered him wasn't as bottomless as the ones she usually threw out. There was a faint glimmer of something, a fragment of a fragment of a distant memory. For the tiniest instant, he could see the girl who left windows open in the winter. Unthinkingly, he ran his thumb along the tattoo visible just above the edge of her dress. She placed her hand over his, pressing his palm firmly against the steady rhythm of her heart.

"What's the matter with us, Gaara?" she wondered out loud.

"Everything, you bitch. Everything," he half-grumbled, half-sighed. Her icy eyes traveled down to look at his long fingers spread out against her collarbone.

"Everything," she agreed.

* * *

The cigarette she lit didn't smell like toothpaste.

Instead, the familiar perfume of Gauloises whispered across her lips, like an old friend greeting her.

She settled on the sofa, one leg crossing elegantly over the other. The short slits on the sides of her black dress revealed peeks of toned thighs as she opened the blue carton and pulled out a fresh cigarette. The silky fabric stretched low over her chest, revealing all of her tattoo but covering just enough to remain decent. Itachi, who had been sitting on the armrest on the opposite end of the seat, automatically rose, digging in his pocket for a lighter. But she didn't even glance his way as she leaned over to her right where Gaara was seated. She scoffed when he lit the tip and then plucked it from her mouth to take a deep drag before handing it back to her, like there wasn't a man sitting next to him just itching to tear his eyes out.

"No more shitty menthols?" he teased and she shrugged, ignoring yet completely aware of Itachi glaring viciously into Gaara's back.

"I wasn't in the mood," she simply replied before she took a deep breath and blew a long stream of blue-gray smoke straight up into the air. Gradually, people filtered into the room. Sasuke slipped in despite Utatane's protests and Sakura easily silenced the older woman's worries. At first, the younger Uchiha's eyes landed on his brother but then drifted to her and he nodded his head in the closest thing to a bow she would ever receive from him. So Sakura returned the gesture and watched as Sasuke crossed the room to stand behind his brother.

Hidan entered next, followed by Kakuzu who was seldom in Ame. Kakuzu, who loved money more than Sakura loved to smoke, had taken it upon himself to manage all the moneylending operations in both Konoha and Ame. He was tall and his presence was somewhat menacing even without him speaking. He paused for a moment to pull off the white mask covering the lower half of his face to reveal black stitches at the corners of his mouth.

"Kakuzu. How kind of you to grace us with your presence," Sakura wryly said as he leaned over to press a quick kiss to her cheek. Kakuzu's mouth pulled up into a faint smile as he took a few steps back to lean against the wall. Hidan was already standing beside him, arms crossed tightly over his chest. With the fierce purple bruise still splashed across his cheek, Hidan briefly met Sakura's eyes before he looked away. His expression was tight with barely contained anger and shame and she knew that she would have to speak with him soon before he ended up stabbing someone. Kisame and Sasori joined them soon after. Kisame, his face tight with concern, dipped his head in Sakura's direction before he stood behind her, resting his forearms against the back of the sofa. Sasori was much calmer as he placed his hand on Sakura's cheek and brushed his lips against her temple.

"Are you alright, Hime?" he whispered in her ear and Sakura simply patted his shoulder and Sasori wordlessly perched on the armrest to her left. It only took another moment for the wall next to Kakuzu to ripple strangely, like a stone had been thrown into a pond. Bit by bit, a head attached to shoulders emerged, golden eyes glowing like hot coals.

"There's no sign of Orochimaru," Zetsu informed her and Sakura barely turned her head in his direction as she took a long suck on her cigarette and pursed her lips as she exhaled, sending thin ribbons of grey spiraling into the air. But Zetsu seemed to take this as her acknowledgement because his arms squeezed out of the wall too. He braced his palms on the solid surface before he pulled the rest of his body free and landed gracefully on the floor, not a single wrinkle in the black fabric of his suit. Zetsu took a moment to look around the room, occasionally nodding a greeting before he settled on standing next to the doorway.

The seats across from her were left empty. No one spoke as they waited for the last two to arrive. Instead, all eyes followed the same pattern, cycling around from the doorway and back to Sakura. The only exception to this was Sakura herself who calmly sat smoking until she stubbed her first cigarette out in the nearby ashtray and lit another one up. Just as she held the smooth cigarette between two fingers away from her mouth so that she could exhale, the room seemed to grow a few degrees colder.

There were two steady footfalls echoing from the foyer. Sakura took a moment to look at Gaara and the right side of his mouth curled up in a smirk.

A challenge she gladly accepted.

Pein stepped into the parlor first, his facial piercings gleaming menacingly in the bright light. His orange hair was a fiery crown that only accentuated the sharp, silvery-gray of his irises. There were thin rings spreading from his pupils, like they were whirlpools prepared to devour anything. His gaze landed on Sakura first. He bowed politely with a smile that fooled no one. As he straightened, Konan appeared behind him, mimicking his well-mannered but cold greeting.

There was no way to explain Konan without Pein. If he was a man, she was his shadow. If he was the earth, she was the moon. She was rarely apart from him, rarely spoke without him. It was as if she didn't understand her existence apart from his. Still, Konan's soft eyes briefly locked with Sakura's and she thought she saw some sort of recognition, maybe an acknowledgement of something. The silver piercing under her lower lip sparkled as they sat on the sofa across from Sakura's. Pein crossed his leg and draped his left arm over the back of the seat.

"Fashionably late, aren't we?" Sakura lightly began, matching Pein's eyes with a confident smile. Over the years, Pein had become something of a danger to her. While he detested her control of Ame, he respected her orders and was a generally reliable ally. But she knew that the second she began to show signs of weakness, he wouldn't hesitate to tear his teeth into her throat. So with that knowledge, she always kept an eye on Pein. Just in case.

"Itachi mentioned that you were injured in my absence. I'm pleased to see that you seem well," Pein began but his gaze drifted to Gaara and Sasuke and his eyes narrowed, "And I see you've taken on some more orphans." Sakura bit the corner of her lip to stop herself from smiling when Gaara sneered back at Pein and gave him the middle finger. Pein's face froze, like he wasn't sure how to react to the blatant show of disrespect. So he blinked a few times, cleared his throat and then glanced over at Konan who was watching everything with her usual glazed look of utter disinterest.

"I appreciate your concern, Pein. However, there are more pressing matters at hand," Sakura said with a thin smile that made no attempts to hide the warning in her gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched, like he had a few words he wanted to say to Gaara, but Pein settled back in the sofa and gestured for her to continue. When he moved, there was a slight draft in the room and the smell of blood rolled off of him. Sakura tried her best not to acknowledge the stench as she searched for words.

"The alliances are void," she said and there was a ripple of confusion that traveled around the room. Only Itachi's expression didn't shift. For a moment, their eyes met and he inclined his head, as if to say 'of course'.

"Orochimaru's unprovoked assault and his…. Inhumane treatment of my men are part of this decision," Sakura slowly explained, her eyes looking restlessly around the room until they landed on Gaara and his lips pressed into a firm line as they both remembered Kimimaro's report. Despite Hidan's snarl and the rush of furious stares piercing into Gaara's face, he reached out and took her hand. She hesitated for a moment before their fingers threaded together and she squeezed so tightly that there was no doubt that she was hurting him. But it was as if having a physical anchor was enough to keep her frayed thoughts coherent. Enough to keep her going.

"Tomorrow, I'm heading to Konoha. Pein and Konan are capable of keeping Ame," Sakura announced and she didn't miss the hungry gleam in Pein's eyes.

"I'll have Kisame and Sasori remain here with them. The rest of you will accompany me. Don't tell any of the underlings. Don't alert the staff. Don't tell **anyone**," she instructed, fixing each and every person in the room with such a pointed look that it was impossible to lock gazes with her for more than a few moments. Pein looked significantly less pleased at this. They both knew leaving Sasori and Kisame, two of her most trusted men, in Ame was less for its protection but more for monitoring purposes. But still, she was relinquishing control of his beloved city and that in itself was enough to silence his complaints. As everyone took in her plan, Konan's delicate mouth opened.

"If you believe this is best, Hime. What are these two doing here?" Konan said in a soft, musical voice.

"If I'm not mistaken, this is Itachi's younger brother and this one is your _friend_ from all those years ago," Pein added, his tongue curling strangely around the word. In response, Gaara grinned viciously, baring his white teeth and Sakura had to turn her head and pretend to cough in order to mask her snort.

"Be prepared to leave at 6 am tomorrow," Sakura simply said, ignoring the questions as she got to her feet, untangling her hand from Gaara's. Without another word, she slipped out of the room and into the backyard. Pulling her shoes off, she padded barefoot across the bricked terrace until she reached the soft, dark grass. She could hear the rustle of feet following behind her and she paused for a moment to extend her arm back. He took a few more steps before his fingers caught her wrist.

"I take it we don't like that Pein guy," Gaara guessed as he linked their fingers together and walked side by side with her. She cracked a smile.

"It's not that. It's more that I don't trust him," she corrected him but Gaara raised an eyebrow at her.

"Haruno… you don't trust anyone," he pointed out with a skeptical expression. She knew he had meant it to be a joke and some rational part of her self pointed out that it was sort of true. But something about learning about Kimimaro and the twins and how strangely vulnerable she had felt waking up in the morning combined and his words were a knife straight to her gut. This time when she smiled, Gaara almost looked apologetic.

"I know," she softly said as she slipped free from his fingers and turned around to tramp through the cold grass all the way back inside.

* * *

Something was wrong with her.

She realized this after she had gone back up to her room and shed her shoes and jewelry right in the middle of the floor before wrapping herself up in the thick comforter and curling up on the bed. Everything was muted inside her cocoon. All the colors were softer, all the sounds vague and thick, like she was underwater. It was a lot easier to try to sort out the jumbled snarl of thoughts inside her head as she lay peacefully.

"Sakura?"

She had expected another set of footsteps, a different voice. But still she carefully peeked out of the fortress she had built around herself and found Itachi standing in the doorway, his expression torn between amusement and utter despair.

"Can I come in?" Itachi asked in such a tentative voice that she pulled the rest of her head free from the comforter.

"When have you ever needed to ask?" she replied, a little unsettled by how distant he suddenly felt. He didn't answer as he closed the door behind him and settled on the edge of the bed. Even when he tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, his hands felt cold, mechanical. She sat up, letting the comforter drape easily over her shoulders as she tried to get a better look at Itachi's face.

"What's wrong?" Sakura said in a whisper as she reached out to touch his cheeks.

"Am I going to assume that he's taken my place?" Itachi inquired. At first, she didn't understand who he was referring to. But she saw the way his gaze lingered longingly on her lips and she realized what he meant. Itachi, strong and intelligent Itachi, sounded so utterly abandoned that she didn't really know what to say to him. She struggled with words for a long time before she could string together anything that made much sense.

"Is it my turn to lie to you now, Itachi?" she whispered.

_You're beautiful._

And Itachi's head drooped, his cheek pressing against the side of her throat. She could feel the shame radiating from him as he nodded.

A desperate, broken man.

"Okay," she said in a barely audible voice. She shrugged her shoulders, letting the blanket slip away. And for a moment, all she could see were his crimson eyes and impossibly shaky smile as she fell back and let his weight settle over her.

It wa only much later, when the sun had long set and night had covered the house with its inky fingers. It was only then that she managed to crawl out of the haze of sleep and only then that she felt him sitting on the windowsill. His shoulders were all sharp angles and shadows in the bright moonlight. It was the first night in a while that the moon was not obscured by clouds. Slowly, like he wanted to draw out her anguish, he lifted his head off his knee to look at her.

Soft jade eyes looked over her. So soft that the accusation was all the more deadly.

Itachi was lying on top of her. Their bare limbs were in an obscene tangle that no matter how she tried, she couldn't think of any words that would wipe the wounded expression off of Gaara's face.

"I told you," she mouthed so she wouldn't wake Itachi up. Gaara's gaze doesn't change as she lightly stroked the top of Itachi's head.

"I told you they would leave me."

She wished Gaara would get angry. Maybe if he threw some things and broke a few more things, she would feel a little less awful. But he just looked tired as he brushed the back of his hand along her cheek before he drew his arms and knees tightly in on himself.

Gaara's whitewashed smile was almost enough to make her cry.

* * *

_I can hear them standing outside my door. _

_Gaara thinks I've fallen asleep and Sasori thinks I won't wake up at the slightest noise. But it's been years since I've learned that pretending to sleep is better than lying awake to stare at the ceiling. _

"_I don't quite understand why she's letting you stay," Sasori says and I can almost see Gaara's arrogant smirk. _

"_I don't understand either, really," Gaara replies in a tone that immediately destroys my visions of confidence. Maybe he's looking out the window. Maybe his hands are in his pockets as he speaks._

"_I won't ask you to leave. But I do request that you be careful. If you break her, I'm not sure I can stop myself from murdering you," Sasori flatly informs him. If it was anyone but Sasori, I know Gaara would have had a few choice words for such advice, but there's a long pause, like Gaara's thinking. _

"_How strange. I always thought she would be the one hurting me," he sighs._

"_Then you're mistaken. That girl is as fragile as they come. Sometimes I worry she'll shatter into a million pieces," Sasori tells him and I try not to smile._

'_Too late for that, Sasori,' I inwardly scoff._

"_At any rate, she seems to trust you so I will as well for the moment. But I have no problems with slitting your throat. Good night," Sasori shortly concludes and I listen to the brisk tap of his shoes against the floor as he walks off. I track his chakra, a soft, tranquil shade that eventually dims to a low hum as he falls asleep in his room. It takes much longer for Gaara to return. But when he does, he carefully shuts the door, trying not to wake me. So I humor him, pretending that I'm sleeping._

_Gaara isn't stupid, though._

"_You don't seem so fragile to me," Gaara whispers as he slips under the covers behind me. His arm snakes over my waist, pulling me in towards him. _

"_But I promise not to break you," he adds after a moment and I know he's 100% sure I'm awake now because I forget to breathe for a split second. His warm laugh spills onto my shoulder as his hold tightens._

"_Like that'll ever happen," Gaara mutters to himself as he presses his face against my shoulder blade and drifts off to sleep._

_I stare at the wall in front of me. __And for the first time since Gaara's arrived, I suffer through a sleepless night. Because the little whispers in the darkness slither up into my ears and say just one word the whole night._

_"Dead."_

* * *

Thanks for all the support!

I'm torn between making a short chapter about either Hidan or Zabuza and Haku. Let me know in your reviews which one you would prefer.


	7. Omake: Hidan's Side

So apparently everyone loves Hidan. As requested, here's a little love for our favorite man with a potty mouth. Just to clarify, this takes place a few years after the end of Black Widow.

Enjoy!

* * *

Nightshade

Hidan's Side

The crunch of tires over gravel pierced the haze.

Still groggy and reeking of vodka, Hidan sat up in his chair and jerked the curtain aside with his foot. Two stories down, he caught a glimpse of Sakura emerging from the passenger side of Sasori's shiny car. He saw Sasori lean over to poke his head out the window and she moved towards him. They spoke for a bit and then he kissed her cheek before he drove off, crushing more gravel as he sped past. He watched her enter the mansion before he lowered his foot and sunk down into his seat again.

He had barely slept in the past few days so he closed his eyes to rest just for a moment. But a moment later, the steady click of high heels approached and his eyes slowly opened. After two soft knocks, the door creaked open and the floral scent of perfume permeated the room, mixing with the stale odor of alcohol and cigarettes.

"Hidan, I did say that you were welcome to stay here but…." Sakura trailed off as she eyed the empty bottles rolling across the floor. She tiptoed around them before she reached his chair angled towards the window. Just the edge of her sleeve brushed his hand as she settled on the armrest. After her father's death, she had been forced to meet with the major stockholders of Haruno Pharmaceuticals on a weekly basis. Today was undoubtedly one of those days, Hidan noted. Instead of her favored low-cut dresses or tight black outfits, she was wearing a flowing white blouse tucked into a high-waisted navy skirt. Following his gaze, Sakura eyed her clothes and smiled.

"It looks weird on me, right? But what can I do?" she sighed as she reached up and pulled the clip out of her loose bun. Her hair fell in soft waves to her chin and the delicious fragrance of her perfume washed over him again. Hidan inhaled deeply, leaning towards her. He pressed his face against her arm, not saying anything.

"I heard from Kakuzu…. That you had a rough time," Sakura began in a quieter voice that made it clear what she was talking about. Unable to find the words, Hidan simply nodded.

"Well, what could you do? I was away and you were outnumbered," she said in a resigned tone.

"I fucked up bad, Hime. I can cut off my pinkie if you want," Hidan rasped. He looked down at the bottle clutched in his hand and took a swig from it. Heat seared through his mouth and throat as he swallowed. A soft laugh left Sakura and he looked up. That was a sound that had become rare.

"That won't do anything for me, Hidan. And I don't blame you," she assured him as she stared out the window. The light of the setting sun slanting in through the spaces between the curtains made him wince. Still, through his squinting eyes, he could make out the sharp profile of her face. Gold spilled across the upper half of her face, making her eyelashes transparent. Traces of silver glimmered deep in her irises, flickering like dying fires. It was a face that was both 23 years old and a million years old all at once. It was as beautiful as it was frightening and that was what drew him even closer.

"Unless you want me to hate you. Do you want me to yell at you? Insult you? Would that make you feel better about yourself?" Her whispered question drew his attention. After a moment, she tore her gaze away from the window and she looked down at him, a faint curve pulling at her lips. He knew she was mocking him, but not in a cruel way.

He had known her long enough to see that she hated herself every single second of every single waking moment. And even her sleep offered little solace. It wasn't uncommon to find her wandering aimlessly around the mansion with just a thin sheet over her short nightgown. Pale, purposeless, silent and drifting, she was a ghost until the sun rose and she was forced to function again. Maybe that was why she never complained about his occasional drinking. Maybe it was because she knew what it felt like to want to run away.

"It would fucking make me feel better. That or if I got to rip that cocksucker Orochimaru's head off," Hidan growled before he lifted the bottle to his lips again. But Sakura's cool hand touched his, stopping him. She grasped his wrist, guiding his hand to help her take a sip first. Her lips pressed together into a hard line as she swallowed.

"That… is foul," she remarked, her right eyebrow rising. Hidan snorted as he tipped his head back and drained the bottle before tossing it aside.

"But I will never hate you, Hidan," she added as she stood. Hidan reached out, his fingertips skimming the back of her hand. Through her thin skin, he thought he felt the flutter of her pulse.

"Isn't that the worst punishment I could give you? Not to punish you at all?" As she spoke, she grabbed the wrinkled collar of his shirt and planted a soft kiss just to the right of his mouth. Smiling in the cold, cruel way she had adapted in recent years, she fixed the hem of her skirt and walked off, her heels clicking loudly against the floor. The place her lips had touched felt hot and he reached up to rub at it with the back of his hand. Crimson lipstick smeared across his skin but the warmth didn't disappear, lingering on and on like dying coals that refused to finally sputter out.

It didn't take long for him to stumble to his feet and stagger after her. Her footsteps were easy to trace in the quiet mansion and he already knew where she was headed. When he rounded the corner, she was standing in front of a door, hand hovering unsurely over the doorknob.

"Uchiha's out with Kisame. Said there was some issue with your shithead brother," Hidan called out as he caught up to her. Her lips pulled into the perfect shape of an 'o' as she let her hand fall slowly to her side.

"Go get some rest, Hidan. You have work to do tomorrow," she softly said. As she turned, her hand brushed against his arm. And she walked off, looking lost amid the plush maroon carpet and the golden chandeliers dripping from the ceiling. It was one of those times where she looked untouchable, almost like an apparition. So he bit back her name and simply stared at her back until she slipped into her room at the far end of the hallway and disappeared inside.

Hidan trudged aimlessly through the Haruno mansion for the better part of an hour before he felt Zetsu's chakra enter the house. It wasn't unusual for him to come and go at odd hours. His ability to travel through virtually any surface made him Sakura's favorite for gathering information as discreetly as possible. He tried to stand still for a moment as he tracked Zetsu's path from the first floor up to the second floor towards Sakura's room. Although in his condition, his efforts to stand up straight were in vain and he ended up leaning against the wall. It was unusual for Zetsu to go directly to Sakura. Usually he would be so exhausted from days without sleep that he would immediately go to bed before speaking to anyone.

Hidan slid to the ground, sitting with his legs carelessly thrown out. A passing maid eyed him with anger, clucking her tongue as she sauntered past while carrying a basket of laundry.

"Fuck you, broad," he snorted, rubbing his palm to his forehead. The hallway was spinning and everything was tilting to the right. He took deep breaths, trying to stop himself from falling straight off the face off the earth. His stomach lurched once but he managed to keep everything down. Squeezing his eyes shut, he let his head loll back against the wall. When he opened his eyes again, he glanced down at his watch and managed to focus long enough to see that nearly half an hour had passed.

"That must be some fucking serious shit he's talking about," Hidan muttered to himself as he pushed off the wall and wobbled down the stairs in the direction of Sakura's room. But at the end of the hallway, he caught the door swinging open. Zetsu stared at him for a moment before they exchanged silent nods. Zetsu released the doorknob and let the door slam shut behind him. As he walked past, he tugged at the collar of his shirt and Hidan thought he caught a glimpse of red on the fabric.

The logical part of him remembered from Sakura's earlier mood that if he managed to piss her off, she might just decide to rip his head off. Still, the image of her lips touching Zetsu's throat made his blood boil. After a long moment of hesitation, he rapped loudly on her door and opened it without waiting for an answer. There was no way that she hadn't felt his chakra hovering around her room so she didn't look at all surprised when he barged in.

"Is something the matter, Hidan?" she asked lightly. The curtains were wide open but the sun was mostly below the horizon so it was difficult to make her out at first. But after his eyes adjusted, he saw that she was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on her stockings. He stared at the outline of her slender legs as she patiently pulled the sheer fabric up her thigh. The loud snap of the stocking as she pulled it in place with a final tug almost made him flinch.

"... Fuck…" he hissed between his teeth. He heard a second snap as she pulled up the other stocking before her cool hands were on his face. The sweet fragrance of her perfume made his stomach twist painfully in a way that had nothing to do with the slight nausea from the alcohol. Her sigh washed over him, a mixture of vodka and minty toothpaste.

"Look at you," she whispered, her hands moving to check his throat.

"Not like you do, you fucking hypocrite," Hidan snapped as he pulled out of her arms. But their faces were too close and he couldn't stop himself from catching a glimpse of her wide green eyes.

Wounded. Surprised.

But instead of turning completely flat as usual, they turned up in the corners. She was smiling?

"I said I wouldn't hate you… but you're making it difficult for me, Hidan," she said as she stood and he immediately missed the cool comfort of her hands on his feverish skin. It made him angry that she could affect him so easily.

"Fuck you, Hime. You know I would rip off my skin if you asked me to," Hidan hissed. She had already turned away from him and taken a few steps back towards the bed. This time, when she looked at him, tilting her head back over her shoulder, her smile was absolutely chilling.

"You're…. really making this difficult. Stop it, Hidan," Sakura threatened in a low tone.

"No. Shut the hell up. You never listen to me. Would you fucking listen for once?" he spat back and she walked right back up to him. After a long silence, she crouched down in front of him.

"You seem to forget something…. I'm not your friend, Hidan," she said in a silky voice. Her cold fingers seized his chin, jerking his face up to look at her. The crooked tilt of her leer made his skin crawl.

"You do what I say and that's it. I don't need anything else from you. So get out before I really lose my temper," she snarled, shoving him hard in the chest.

"Why won't you look at me?" he half-shouted as he lunged forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her hard. But her expression didn't change. Cold indifference and a hint of disgust filled every inch of her face in a way that gouged holes deep into his chest.

Her cruelty made him want her more.


	8. Lightless

Nightshade

Chapter 6: Lightless

The Haruno manor was unusually quiet the next morning. As usual, the maids and head housekeeper were up long before dawn, preparing tea and dusting off the mistress' collection of swords. Uchiha Itachi and Sasuke were out on the front steps, overseeing the inspection of the cars that would be used to get to the airport. But when a maid tentatively knocked on the mistress' door, it was opened by a bare-chested man with dark red hair. He wordlessly accepted the silver cart that the girl pushed towards him before she hurried off with a frightened squeak.

"I'd say that was your wake-up call but you haven't slept," Gaara commented as he nudged the cart into the room with his foot before shutting the door. Sakura sighed as she ran her fingers through her messy hair.

"You slept well enough for the both of us," she muttered, letting her hand fall heavily into her lap. He smirked in agreement as he lifted the cover off the cart to reveal a blue teapot covered in dainty white leaves along with two matching cups. On the other side of the tray sat a plate of delicate pastries covered in fresh fruits and generous dollops of cream. Gaara popped one in his mouth and the flaky crust melted against his tongue.

"This is good," he remarked as he chewed. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, holding up a pastry in front of her. At first, her mouth twisted into a frown of disapproval as he scattered crumbs across the comforter. She turned her face away from him, wrinkling her nose at the sugary smell. But when she sniffed again, the buttery aroma of almonds filled her nose.

"Spit that out!" she hissed as she smacked it out of his hand.

"Arsenic," she explained when Gaara looked outraged at her for wasting food. He paled as he hurriedly emptied the contents of his mouth into a napkin, wadding it up into a ball and throwing it into the trash can. Sakura pressed the button for the intercom on the nightstand, keeping one eye on Gaara.

"Utatane, my room please," Sakura requested in sharp, clipped words.

"Right away, Hime," the old woman replied.

"Arsenic? Someone's not happy with you. Maybe they want a raise or better working hours," Gaara snorted as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Sakura said nothing as she stood and pulled a soft purple robe on over her bare body. Just as she tied the sash, there was a knock on the door. As Sakura brushed past him to open the door, his fingers lightly touched her back.

"Utatane," Sakura flatly said as she yanked the door handle. The head housekeeper bowed deeply, hands folded over her stomach. When she straightened, her grey eyes flicked straight to Gaara. A faint furrow appeared between her eyebrows but she politely dipped her head in his direction as well.

"Is your breakfast not to your liking, Hime?" Utatane inquired as she eyed the fallen food.

"Arsenic," Sakura replied in a sugary voice. She lightly nudged the pastry with foot, turning it over once. The cream and fruit smeared over the hardwood.

"My deepest apologies, Hime," Utatane said as she bowed once again.

"Have the maid who brought me breakfast interrogated," Sakura sighed, waving her hand absently towards the food. But she paused for a moment, thinking. She turned back towards Utatane.

"Actually, have all the kitchen staff replaced," she added. As the old housekeeper turned, Sakura's expression sharpened.

"It's not you… is it, Utatane?" Sakura asked in a softer voice. Utatane proudly lifted her head and looked her mistress straight in the eyes. She didn't flinch away from the ice that met her gaze. Instead, she placed her hands over the obi of her kimono and scowled.

"I have been serving the Haruno family for 48 years. I can assure you that at the very least, **I **will remain with you until the end, Hime," Utatane replied with a fierce tremor in her voice. Sakura tried not to smile.

"My apologies, Utatane," Sakura said and the housekeeper bowed again.

"Thank you," added Sakura as the door swung shut and she almost missed Utatane's rusty laugh. When she looked back at Gaara, his eyebrows were drawn together. A deep furrow appeared on his forehead as he fixed her with an almost angry look.

"Who **do** you trust?" he demanded as she crossed the room to perch on the edge of the bed beside him. He twisted around to let his legs hang freely, toes nearly brushing the floor. A hum slipped past her lips as she picked up her teacup and observed it, weighing it in her palm. After a moment of looking, she ran her finger along the inner rim and rubbed it against her thumb. Nodding to herself, she lifted the lid of the teapot and sniffed.

"Who do I trust?" she repeated as she poured tea into the clean cup. When she inhaled, there was a subtle tang in the sweet fragrance that made her nose wrinkle. Sighing, she dipped the tip of her pinky in the hot liquid and tapped her lower lip. Her tongue darted out to taste and she raised an eyebrow. The cup had been perfectly clean and nothing had seemed wrong with the tea at first. She scanned the seemingly harmless tray again before her eyes caught on the curved spout still burping steam. Clicking her tongue, she ran a clean finger along the inside of the porcelain and her finger surfaced with a fine coating of glittering white dust.

"Well, obviously not the staff here," she muttered mostly to herself as she flicked the lid off and poured her tea back inside.

"And to answer your question, I don't really trust that many people. You know that," Sakura responded seriously, her mouth curling in a humorless smile. A strangled noise of frustration left Gaara as he took in her answer.

"There's enough rat poison in here to kill an elephant," Sakura suddenly scoffed as she peered into the teapot. She suddenly stood, knocking it over and breaking off the porcelain handle.

"I thought you were fine with most poisons," Gaara said, reaching out to catch her arm.

"Well, since I was exposed to them since I was little, most of them won't kill me. But with high levels, I will get sick. And I'd prefer to be as healthy as possible when we travel," Sakura explained, letting Gaara pull her into his lap. She swung her legs around to straddle his, looping her arms around the back of his neck. The deep-set anger in his eyes startled her.

"Gaara?"

His hands slid up to grip her arms.

"How do you look so cheerful saying something so… so…" he trailed off, looking for the right words.

"Pathetic?" she offered. Such a long silence stretched between them that she nudged his cheek with her nose. Someone should have been stabbing him in the back for how pained he looked. He ran his thumb along her lower lip slowly, almost wonderingly.

"No. Sad," Gaara corrected her as he let his hand drop back into his lap. She leaned into him, pressing her mouth against the tender skin just below his ear.

"Thank you." Her arms retracted as her usual cool smile clicked back into place. There was a pause as she looked down at her right hand. The glitter of white poison clung to her fingertips, refusing to fall off when she flicked her wrist. She lifted a finger to her mouth, running it along her lower lip and then letting her tongue dart out to wipe it away. Her eyes flickered to meet his and he simply shook his head at her.

"Sour."

* * *

The plane ride to Konoha was mostly silent. Sakura stared out the window the entire time, never making eye contact and never speaking. When the poor flight attendant made the mistake of offering champagne, Sakura's jaw had tightened. Shooting a scathing glare out of the corner of her eyes, Sakura easily terrified the poor woman away. With her mouth permanently mashed into a grim line, Sakura pressed her palm against her chest and felt her tattoo pulse angrily. Her arrival at the airport was punctuated by the presence of guards from Iwa.

"Deidara-sama has instructed us to guard you, Sakura-Hime," one of the burly men informed her as she stepped off the plane. He, like his four companions, had a mask covering the lower half of his face, leaving just his mud-colored eyes visible. Her gaze skimmed easily over him.

"Suit yourselves," she said with a shrug. A few black cars pulled up near the plane, a small cherry blossom pressed into the bottom right corner of each license plate.

"The mansion, Hime?" the driver asked as she climbed into the back seat. For the first time, nobody seemed to be silently fighting to sit next to her. If anything, the men seemed hesitant to enter the same car as her. After a suspiciously long pause, Itachi slid in beside her and Gaara sat in the passenger's side in front.

"Itachi, tell the others to head straight back to the mansion. I need to pay my respects to an old friend," Sakura firmly said. The driver continued looking at her expectantly through his mirror and she almost smiled.

"We're going to see Genma," she announced.

Shiranui Genma had earned himself many names during his 36 years of life. Some of them were expected: Demon of Needles, The Grinning Death. But his latest title was one that was rather unexpected. His roguish smile and generally easy attitude made it easy for people to like him. So those who knew him best were surprised when he started going by the name-

"Ah, 'The Watchdog' was it?" Sakura commented as she descended into the arena. The stands were empty for the day; they would only begin to fill up long after the sun had set. The few gathered in the raised platform of the ring in the middle of the huge room all perked up. Out of the group, one man rose from his crouch. When he grinned, the large metal needle clenched between his teeth bounced.

"Hime. It's been ages since I've seen your lovely face," Genma greeted her as he slipped under the ropes and bounded across the dull concrete. He gave her a deep, sweeping bow before he easily slipped his hand around her waist and guided her to the ring.

"Boys, I'd like to introduce you to a living legend. This here is our lovely Black Widow. Yours truly has had the pleasure of getting absolutely destroyed by her once before," Genma called out as he climbed back onto the platform. He offered his hand and Sakura slipped her fingers through his, letting him pulling her up. The sound of her high-heeled boots was sharp as all eyes settled on her. She didn't recognize any of these fighters with their shaggy hair and gaunt faces. A few of them had nasty scars slicing across their faces, testaments to their strength or a stubborn refusal to die. As she skimmed the blank expressions, she couldn't find a vital spark in any of their gazes. These were fighters who had been in the circuit too long. They'd lost any will to escape a long time ago.

"So, why does the lovely Hime grace me with her radiant presence?" Genma inquired with his easy smile that had captured the hearts and bodies of many women.

"I'm settling back in Konoha for the time being for some…official business. I was wondering if maybe you had some promising young talent for me this time," she replied, the disdainful gaze she casted the fighters more than enough to express her disappointment. Genma seemed unaffected as he put his arm over her shoulders, pulling her close.

"Well I'm a little hurt, Hime. I was hoping you'd come for a little something more," he leered half in jest. But his eyes drifted to the redhead hovering menacingly in the doorway alongside Uchiha Itachi and his hand slowly dropped.

"I see you've gotten a new stray cat. Sandman," Genma remarked with a little nod. Gaara's eyes narrowed but her nodded back. As if she had actually forgotten, Sakura barely tossed a glance in Gaara's direction.

"Yo Genma, you make it sound like this old broad can fight. Looks like the only thing she'd be good at is some wild fun in the sack," one of the older fighters jeered. A chorus of rough laughs rose into the air the instant before Genma spat the needle in his mouth, hitting the offender in the right thigh. A howl of pain screeched through the air as he tried to wrench the weapon out of his leg.

"Why don't you show them something, Hime?" Genma suggested, his hand straying further down her back. Sakura smiled coldly as she took a step away from him. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she looked over the scraggly band of fighters before her.

"I doubt any of these would keep me occupied for even a minute," she scoffed. At this, the one with a senbon still wedged tightly into his thigh let out a loud roar of frustration.

"Fuck you, bitch!" he shouted as he suddenly launched himself across the ring. Sakura didn't even glance in his direction as she deftly caught his outstretched arm. Green flooded her hand as she twisted hard and the audible snap of breaking bone filled the air. What quickly followed was the sound of the unfortunate young man cursing and screaming as he writhed on the floor.

"Point taken," Genma agreed as he roughly shoved the boy off the stage with his foot and motioned for his friends to take care of him.

"But why not your friend over there? It's been a while since either Black Widow or Sandman have graced this arena," Genma suggested as his eyes drifted to Gaara. He grinned while he fished a fresh needle out of his back pocket and stuck it into his mouth. Sakura's gaze fell on Gaara too and she surveyed him carefully for a moment. Her eyes firmly glued to Gaara, Sakura beckoned for Itachi to approach the ring.

"Let our dear friend Tsunade know that we'll have to push back our dinner an hour," Sakura murmured and Itachi dipped his head in response, already reaching for his cell phone to make arrangements. Smirking, Sakura fished her blue box of Gauloises out of her pocket to shake one out. As Gaara climbed into the ring, he tossed her his cheap lighter without saying anything. The rich fragrance of her cigarette couldn't mask the stale odor of sweat and strong bleach that radiated throughout the room. Sakura shed her jacket, revealing the simple black camisole underneath along with tight jeans tucked into her favorite knee-high boots. She tossed her jacket into the corner of the ring along with the cell phone and cigarettes she threw in afterwards. Itachi held up her katana resting snugly inside the glossy black sheath. She shook her head and he nodded, leaving it on top of her jacket.

"It's been a while since we've done anything like this," Gaara remarked as he calmly took off his jacket too and threw it into the opposite corner along with his gun. They each took steps back to stand at opposite sides of the ring. Everyone else slipped out between the ropes, climbing down into the arena below to watch. Sakura just huffed in response as she took an extra-long drag of her cigarette. As she blew thick rings of smoke into the air, she stretched her arms over her head.

"Don't bore me," she sneered as she cracked her knuckles. They eyed each other, fingers twitching and feet shuffling as they carefully circled around.

It was Gaara that lunged first, his fist whistling through the air. She easily twisted to the side to avoid the blow. Her lips quirking up in a humorless smile, Sakura weaved past all his quick jabs. Gaara was surprisingly quick on his feet for someone as muscular as he was. A few of his punches just barely grazed her, skin barely whispering against skin. She moved past each of his attacks with grace until her hands flared bright green and she slashed viciously across his torso. A faint line of red welled up in the thin fabric of his white wife beater but he didn't even flinch.

"You've gotten fast," she remarked as they took a step away from each other. Gaara pressed his palm to his stomach, looking down at the faint smudge of crimson pressed into his palm.

"You've gotten sloppy," he retorted and the smile slid straight off her face. They began circling again, her taking long, almost lunging steps, as fierce as a starving predator. But Gaara's feet moved slowly, almost leisurely. The arrogant curl of his mouth was a direct challenge. Her fingers curled into tight fists that strained against her leather gloves.

"Don't get too arrogant, Sabaku," Sakura warned before the green glow returned to her hands. But this time it twined up her forearms, digging tightly into her skin all the way up to her elbows. Where it touched, the skin smoked, searing bright red before it healed over and over again. The scent of burning flesh filled the arena.

"Are you going to kill me, _Hime_?" Gaara mocked.

"Only if you bore me," she sighed, as if talking to him was possibly one of the most uninteresting things in the world. She took a step forward with her right foot and Gaara immediately took a step to his right, maintaining a safe business between them. They danced around, never drawing closer, never moving apart. As the pattern continued on and on, Sakura's chakra flared brighter and brighter until her patience snapped and she launched herself at him. The green flames spiraled up her arm, engulfing her right shoulder as she swung. Her knuckles caught his side as he tried to move out of the way. Her chakra singed off part of his shirt and left a red burn in its wake. Sakura didn't give him time to recover, jabbing at him in a quick succession of punches. She caught him once in the shoulder and then landed a solid blow to his jaw that sent him reeling into the ropes on the opposite side. With a flick of her fingers, her chakra fizzled out and the pink, raw-looking skin of her knuckles seemed to glow under the lights. Sakura watched coldly as Gaara turned his head to spit out the blood welling up in his mouth.

"Stand up," she ordered without a shred of sympathy in her gaze. Her expression didn't change as she waited for him to right himself. He spat one more time and thick, almost-black blood spurted out from between his teeth. He had probably bitten his tongue. His jade eyes burned as he stared up at her from under his crimson bangs.

"Stand up," she said again, this time in a steelier tone. She could see from the way he moved, deliberately sluggishly, as if he were exhausted, that he was trying to buy time, to poke holes in her strategy. So when Gaara finally pushed off the ropes to stand up straight, she chomped off the end of her cigarette and spat the halves out of the ring. With the bitter taste of tobacco coating her tongue, Sakura smirked.

She had almost forgotten what a crafty opponent he was. In the short time he had stalled, he had already figured out her weakness. She had no real defense against him, not without a weapon. It had been years since she had stood in a ring for a bare-knuckles fight. For years she had relied on her sword or at least a gun to give her some sort of buffer, some sort of way to keep the enemy at an arm's length. Sakura had gone on the offensive to hide that, to keep him busy dodging so he wouldn't think. From the glint in his eyes, she almost regretted not kicking him out of the ring while he pretended to be down.

"Looks like you've forgotten something, Haruno. I don't like to lose," Gaara snorted. Sakura moved out of the way half a second before he came flying through the air. When he grabbed hold of her forearm, she listened to his palm sizzle unpleasantly against the chakra engulfing her skin. Though it was far from a pleasant experience for either of them, Sakura's skin continued healing over and over while an angry red welt rose on Gaara's hand.

They took a few steps back, each eying the other with suspicion. Sakura closed her eyes for a moment and let the chakra spiraling up her arms fizzle out. The smile that curled her lips was so utterly sweet that it was terrifying.

"Neither do I," she replied before she charged forward and slammed her fist into his left cheek. The crack of his jaw was punctuated by blood spurting from his mouth, flecking the front of her shirt. Her expression was blank as she took a step forward and ground her heel into his chest, pinning him down. It took him a minute for his eyes to focus, for his irises to stop shifting restlessly and to focus in on her.

"What the hell was that? I thought you needed chakra to become crazy strong," he wheezed but she didn't lessen the pressure.

"I didn't sit around twiddling my thumbs for 10 years, stupid," Sakura retorted. They stared at each other, her eyes narrowing.

"Are you going to get up?" she demanded. To respond, Gaara grabbed onto her leg and threw her off. She spun once, twisting her body mid-air to land on her feet instead of on her face. Before she could straighten completely, she heard his footsteps. She twisted to the right, anticipating the same combination of kicks and punches he had used many years ago. But at the end, there was an extra jab from his elbow that caught her in the ribs. Inhaling sharply through gritted teeth, Sakura ducked out of his grasp. She blinked as a drop of her own sweat landed in her eye. But it was in that crucial instant that she missed his leg speeding towards her.

The blow hit her in the left thigh and her body instinctively twisted away from the pain. As her legs buckled, her right ankle cracked and a searing pain shot through it. Snarling, she grabbed onto the front of Gaara's shirt and threw him to the floor.

"Getting a little testy, Hime?" Gaara asked with a leer. Her nails slashed across his cheek when she backhanded him. But Gaara didn't retaliate. He simply looked up at her with his glowing, brazen eyes and smirked.

"You hurt your ankle, right? You should probably get them checked out," Gaara remarked, his tongue darting out to taste the blood welling up along the right corner of his mouth.

"Shut up. I'm fine," Sakura snapped a little more sharply than she had intended. His smile faded.

"That's your problem. You gotta take care of yourself-"

"Stop it," she sighed, fingers releasing the wrinkled front of his shirt. The heels of her tall boots screeched as she struggled to her feet. Just once her ankle buckled and she passed off the fumble as her reaching down to dust off the toe of her shoe. Shrugging on her coat, she nudged the point of her foot underneath her sword. With a quick jerk of her leg, she sent the weapon into the air and caught onto the bright red tassels hanging from the end.

"I'm done listening to your pointless words. You keep saying what I should do, how I should live, but you're the one that's been gone for a decade. Itachi," Sakura quietly said. As soon as she uttered his name, Itachi materialized from wherever he had been watching to approach the raised platform. He extended his hand to her, offering to help her down. With a cold look, she smacked his fingers aside and jumped down, landing hard on her injured ankle.

"I keep telling you that you need to think about yourself! Are you deaf? Why won't you listen to me?" Gaara snarled from behind her. She could see him struggling to sit up. Her foot had left a bruise on his exposed collar bones. Somehow she couldn't bring herself to sympathize.

"I can't hear you," she coolly replied before she abandoned him there with her retreating footsteps.

* * *

There was a musty quality to the Haruno estate in Konoha. The old butler that had once run the household had passed away a few years ago. In his place, another butler had been hired, a man by the name of Mitokado Homura. Something about the way his black eyes always moved with her was a little unsettling. But he had yet to prove himself treacherous, something that not many of the hired help working for her could ever hope to achieve. Homura was very good at his job and he managed to keep the entire residence spotless though it had been many years since its mistress had set foot inside it.

When Sakura arrived at the Haruno estate, she found Homura standing by the front door along with a few maids. As she walked, she channeled chakra to her ankle to soothe the inflammation and coax new cells to life. He bowed respectfully if a little mechanically. Though his gaze lingered on her messy hair and smudged eyeliner, Homura's lips remained pursed in their perpetual frown.

"Tsunade is?" Sakura asked no one in particular as she strode into the foyer. The floors were made of white marble, the walls covered in luxurious wallpaper. The staircase was unnecessarily large, sweeping up in a grand gesture all the way up the wall. Sakura's upper lip curled as she kicked off her shoes and stood in the middle of the foyer, directly under the crystal chandelier.

"On her way. You did ask her to show up an hour later, Hime," Itachi reminded her. Sakura heard Gaara enter the house too and take off his shoes but her eyes flickered straight past him, as if he were nothing more than one of the paintings lining the walls of the house that were there but were seldom remembered.

"Hidan and Kakuzu are down by the docks checking in with Ibiki. Sasuke and Kimimaro are resting in their rooms," Itachi added. Sakura nodded once before she slipped her arms out of her jacket and tossed it to the side. The maids scrambled frantically to catch it. They were just as twitchy and wide-eyed as she remembered. Rubbing at the back of her neck, Sakura began climbing the staircase. But her foot froze in the air less than a quarter of the way up. Her hand rested on the railing as she tilted her head to look back at Itachi.

"Good work, Itachi. Take the rest of the day off," she sighed as she continued up the cold stairs. The second floor was just as hollow as she remembered. The impossibly tall ceilings were still decorated with a delicate pattern of gold flowers and vines. Each chandelier dangling above was sparkling, almost unrealistically clean. The portraits of generations of Haruno clan heads lined the walls. Each man's stiff expression of vague disapproval seemed to follow her as she trudged down the hallway. When she reached the familiar double doors at the end of the hall, she slipped her fingers around the brass doorknob and simply soaked in the sensation of the cool metal against her skin. She took a deep breath as she slowly twisted the knob and eased one of the doors open.

Danzo's study was just the way she had left it. Even the hideous bust of some dead philosopher was sitting on the mantle, facing away so she wouldn't have to look into his dead eyes. The heavy mahogany desk by the windows was free of any dust. The leather-bound books filling the bookcases lining the walls almost made her dizzy to look at. The plush maroon rug cushioned her bare feet as she carefully crossed the room. Someone had even had the idea to start a fire in the stone hearth. Wood crackled merrily and collapsed in on itself, casting a warm orange glow across the walls. The mirror hanging above the mantelpiece drew her gaze.

Maybe it was the flicker of the fire. But the haunted face that stared back at her seemed to be leering. Sakura stared at the alien face and she watched lips move in shapes.

"You're hideous," she whispered and the mocking person in the mirror mouthed the words right back at her. The flecks of blood scattered across her cheeks and nose made part of her stomach twist with revulsion. Sakura tried to smile, just to test out the expression. But the horrific grin that met her eyes felt nothing like her own. Squeezing her eyes shut, she slammed her open palm against the mirror. Stinging pain welled up in her palm and she could feel the odd warmth of her blood trickling down her hand and arm. When she managed to crack her eyes open, the warped, scattered fragments of her reflection still seemed to be grinning.

The reflection of the bust was laughing at her with dead eyes too.

An inhuman sound left her mouth, neither a sob nor a whimper.

Cheeks dry, eyes devoid of tears, she grabbed the edge of the nearest bookcase. With one hard yank, she sent it toppling, books spilling every which way. She grabbed one of the thicker tomes and tossed it into the fire. The leather cover smoked and fizzled angrily, filling the room with the smell of burning flesh.

"Why didn't you die, old man?" Sakura softly asked the dead-eyed framed photo sitting on the desk. Haruno Danzo gazed blankly at her until she snatched it up and threw that in the fireplace too.

The walls were warping in on themselves, threatening to crush her between them as she made her way down the hall. The cackling faces of her ancestors bored down on head, snapping viciously at her with yellowing teeth. Her eyes lingered on the door that would lead to her room. She let her fingers hover above the knob, not quite touching.

The room revealed was something out of a horrific nightmare- one that wasn't frightening until after the dream ended. The blindingly white walls, bed and carpet felt out of the place in the midst of all the dark and luxurious décor her father had always favored. She felt the color leaching from her fingertips, her hair, even her clothes. The old painting of her as a child that her father had commissioned many years ago still hung on the wall with unsmiling, cold eyes. She still remembered that day, wearing a new blue dress and her hair tied back in pigtails by one of the maids' cold, brusque hands. As she walked past the lavish painting, she smeared her bloody palm across the child's face, blocking out the cheeks soft with baby-fat.

Sakura wiped her hand clean on the front of her shirt before she threw herself onto the large bed. She rolled over to fling her arm over her eyes. She wanted so desperately to block out the sheer lack of color. But there was nowhere else to go. Her father's bedroom was a space she would never touch, never even look at. And the other rooms in the mansion were so alien. Sucking in a deep breath through her mouth, Sakura sat up and felt around for the presences lingering in the building.

Itachi was in the kitchen downstairs, probably checking for poison. Sasuke was slumbering peacefully in his room upstairs. Gaara was outside, in the backyard. Kimimaro was in his room, not moving but not sleeping either. When she opened her eyes, she saw dark clouds gathering in the sky to swallow up the sun. As rain began peppering the windows, Sakura ripped the sheets off her bed and hugged them around her shoulders like a flowing cape. Barefoot, she tip-toed into the hallway, barely letting the balls of her feet touch the cool wood.

Her fingertips dragged across the walls while the walked. The rooms on the third floor were smaller. Her brother's own room had been up here when they were both children. Someone had taken down the large portrait of Danzo dominating a wall, the one where his steely eyes had seemed to be glaring judgment on anyone who dared to walk past. The space underneath was dark and sparse. She should have appreciated the baldness but it only left a sour taste like blood in the back of her mouth. When she reached one of the doors in the east wing, she hesitated to knock. But before she could even gather her fingers into a fist, the door creaked open.

"Sakura-sama?" Kimimaro breathed, his pale eyes widening.

Sakura always forgot that Kimimaro was taller than her. She touched his shoulder once as she walked into the room. The edge of the sheet dragged on the soft maroon carpet wherever she moved. As Kimimaro closed the door, she could feel his eyes on the back of her head.

"Are you hurt, Sakura-sama?" Kimimaro quietly asked while he took a few steps towards her. Sakura didn't respond as she looked around the room. She had offered him one of the larger, more luxurious rooms downstairs. But Kimimaro, who always seemed to hate her attempts at kindness, had taken up his old room. It was rather narrow. The walls were covered in faded wood paneling. The one window faced the backyard, overlooking the well-manicured topiaries and the large, round water fountain sitting in the middle.

"Is something bothering you?" he inquired. She turned away from the window when she saw Gaara crossing the lawn to head back inside. In one sharp jerk, she flung the curtains together.

"You're cold," Kimimaro murmured as he tentatively touched the exposed skin of her forearm with his thumb. She could feel that he was shaking. Sakura grasped his wrist, tilting her face towards him.

He was older now, nearly 27. How had his face not changed? Of course his jaw had hardened, his chin sharpened. His shoulders were broader, his palms rougher. But the wide-eyed look of innocence still showed clearly in each of his looks. And the way he gazed at her with childish trust was as heart-breaking as the first time she had seen him.

"Why are you here, Sakura-sama?" he whispered, finally asking the question that had been silently hovering between them. When she put her palm against his cheek, his eyes slid shut. The way he nuzzled towards her made her stomach tie in sickening knots. He was so starved for any affection. He didn't even realize how wrong he was to seek it from her. He couldn't see how awful she was.

Kimimaro was beyond blind.

When she stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss him, she could feel his shiver of delight. He was so easily thrilled by the littlest things. A sharp pang of jealousy stabbed between her ribs at his blissful expression.

"Why don't you hate me, Kimimaro?" she sighed as she pulled away from him. But he refused to let her go. Even when she turned back to the window, he let his arms fall around her. He rested his chin on her left shoulder, as if he could possibly see what she was seeing. But it wasn't the window she was looking at. She was feeling. Sasuke had woken from his nap at the other end of the hallway. He was moving around his room, probably dressing. And Gaara was standing inside her bedroom.

"Why would I ever hate you, Sakura-sama?"

Kimimaro was so sincere that his words felt mechanical. She twisted her head to press her lips to the side of his mouth before she shrugged him off.

"That's right. Why would you?" she repeated softly. Ignoring his questioning stare, she walked past him, slipping back into the hallway. She ran into Sasuke in the hallway. His dark hair was sticking up at odd angles. His mouth was opened in a yawn as he lifted a hand in greeting.

"Meet me in the living room in half an hour. There's someone you need to meet," Sakura said. Sasuke frowned but he still nodded.

When Tsunade arrived at the estate at 6, Sakura was lounging on the sofa in the living room. Her head was resting in Itachi's lap. She had traded her clothes for a long robe made from deep red silk. A pattern of gold and white flowers spread across the fabric. The matching gold tie around her middle left most of the robe to slip off her shoulders to expose her collarbones and the tattoo over her heart. With her eyes closed, it almost appeared as if she was sleeping. But Itachi suddenly looked up from his book, head turning in the direction of the front door. Her eyes slowly opened, trailing in the direction of the entrance as well. Sakura made no efforts to move as Homura entered.

"Tsunade-dono has arrived," he announced before a woman trailed in after. Tsunade's long gold hair was pulled back in two low pigtails that flowed down her back with each step she took.

"You're late, Tsunade," Sakura sighed, rolling onto her side with her back to everyone else. She tugged on the front of Itachi's shirt and he obliged by leaning over to let her whisper in his ear.

"Wouldn't you rather have your little stray dog with you?" Itachi asked and her lips curled upwards.

"Jealous, Itachi?" she teased, reaching up to tap her pointer finger against his nose. The look he pinned her with was a little sharper than it should have been. Sighing deeply, Sakura reached up to pat Itachi's cheek before she released his shirt and put her head back down.

"Have a seat, Tsunade. Spiced rum's okay with you, right?" Sakura said, carelessly waving her arm in the direction of the sofa placed directly across from hers. There was a moment of silence and then she heard Homura's well-polished black shoes tapping away. And then she heard the hollow click of Tsunade's heels before she reached the white shag rug and then lowered herself into the indicated seat. Sakura tilted her head to peer up at Itachi past his book. His dark eyes weren't moving so she knew he wasn't actually reading at all. As he turned to the next page, his gaze flickered down to her and the corner of his mouth curled faintly.

"So tell me, Tsunade. How have you been?" asked Sakura, not looking away from Itachi.

Tsunade was only one or two years older than her, but something about the way Tsunade spoke always made her sound ancient. She had a low but feminine voice that made it impossible to ignore her when she spoke. In any other situation, Tsunade would have been a powerful leader, both charismatic and wise. She had worked under Danzou as one of his top researchers until she had turned 18. Everyone had secretly whispered that perhaps this woman would steal Sakura's spot as successor.

And then she had watched her boyfriend and younger brother slaughtered like animals in front of her.

From then on, Tsunade had turned her back on all the science and research she had devoted her life to. What was more shocking was that she developed a crippling fear of blood and of death. Tsunade shrunk from the cadavers she had once sliced open with ease. She was paralyzed by the sight of a mere paper cut. Even the sight of ketchup splattered across a plate was known to cause her some discomfort. However, what really interested Sakura was something other than Tsunade's hemophobia.

Sakura languidly sat up, stretching her arms in front of her. When she twisted around to peer into Itachi's book, she knew that the movement mashed her breasts together. His dark eyes skimmed over her cleavage a few too many times to be an innocent observation. As she tilted the book back towards her, Itachi reached out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. When Homura re-entered the room, Sakura picked up on the steady rhythm of his footsteps. Without looking at him, she held out her hand and waited for him to place the cool drink in between her fingers. She held the glass up to the light and shook it once to make sure that there wasn't any sort of powder settling at the bottom, a dead giveaway for poison.

"Very good choice of rum, Homura. Be a dear and go get Sasuke for me," Sakura said, raising the glass approvingly in his direction. The elderly butler wordlessly handed off the drinks to the others before he stepped out of the room.

"Sasuke? Uchiha Sasuke?" Tsunade blurted out, uttering her first words. A cold smile stretched Sakura's mouth as she slowly tilted her head over her shoulder. When Sakura let her gaze fall on Tsunade, she could practically feel the other woman's horror.

Because other than fearing blood, Tsunade was utterly terrified of Haruno Sakura.

That night, when Tsunade had witnessed the only two people she loved being slaughtered, it was Sakura that Danzou had sent to clean up the mess. It was only now, more than 10 years later, that Sakura began to suspect that it had been orchestrated on purpose. Sakura had emerged from the fray completely covered in blood that was not her own. Her katana was gripped tightly in her right hand as she struggled not to lose her grip on the handle still slippery with entrails and sweat. From her left hand dangled a ghastly head with a mouth still agape in a wordless scream. She had thrown the head at Tsunade's feet with the terse words "You're avenged now".

But for some reason, that fear hadn't turned Tsunade against her. If anything, this blind dread had made Tsunade one of her most valuable assets. Because as long as Sakura wasn't around, Tsunade was a very powerful leader, perfect to manage affairs while the true mistress was gone.

So there sat Tsunade, back staff, knees locked together. Her drink was clenched tightly in both her hands and she occasionally raised it to her mouth to take tiny sips through unmoving lips. Her gold eyes darted from Sakura to Itachi, like she was waiting for either of them to suddenly stand and try to behead her.

"Yes, Uchiha Sasuke. But let's discuss that over dinner. Shall we move to the dining room?"

And when Sakura smiled, showing off gleaming white teeth, Tsunade couldn't hide her shudder.

Dinner itself was a rather tame ordeal. None of the food turned up poisoned and there was enough fine wine in Sakura's system that she didn't feel quite cruel enough to torment Tsunade any more than necessary. In fact, Sakura was satisfied with eating the exquisitely tender steak on her plate as she listened to Tsunade nervously rattle off the facts and numbers she had clearly memorized before coming to the Haruno mansion. By the time the butler came out with tiramisu, Tsunade's hands were shaking so hard that she couldn't hold onto her glass without making the liquid inside slosh around violently. Sakura was sitting at the head of the table with Itachi at her right and Sasuke at her left. And Tsunade was all the way at the other end, directly in the line of Sakura's steely gaze.

Towards the end of the meal, when everyone was busy patting their mouths with their napkins and motioning for final refills of wine, Sakura noticed something out of the corner of her eye. When she casually turned her head to look out the window, she was startled by Gaara standing just outside the window. The rain that had started a few hours ago had softened into a weak mist. He was barefoot, treading through the grass sluggishly, like his thoughts were focused elsewhere. The water in his hair darkened it to the color of drying blood as he turned and stared straight at her.

The pitying smirk that tugged at his mouth made her sick to her stomach.

After dinner, after Tsunade had hastily made an excuse to leave, and after Sasuke and Itachi had gone off to talk, Sakura found herself alone. She wasn't actually alone. All the household help lived in the mansion and she knew Hidan was sleeping in his room. But with each step down the empty, darkened halls, the echoes seemed to hurl themselves back at her with cruelty. When she reached the door to her bedroom, the horrid room that would be blindingly white on the inside, Sakura hesitated.

"Hime."

Zetsu's quiet voice from the wall behind her broke the intolerable silence.

"I have some things to report," he told her as he pushed his head through the wall. The dark splotch of a bruise under his left eye stood out from his pale skin. She took a step toward him to lightly touch it. The soft, tender flesh was warm under her fingertips. Zetsu's expression didn't change. His gold eyes were sharp and almost blank as he watched her.

"Zetsu, I'm tired. Let's not talk here," Sakura whispered.

That was the nice thing about Zetsu. He never asked questions, never asked for more. Sakura waited for Zetsu to pull himself completely free of the wall. And the long walk to his room on the other side of the mansion was filled with a silence so brittle and so loud that Sakura swore she could hear her heart pounding in her own ears.

* * *

Gaara found her a couple hours later. She listened to the bedroom door open and close past the hiss of the cold water thundering down on top of her. The door to the bathroom was swung wide open so she could hear him picking up the clothes she had ripped off herself and thrown onto the floor. After a minute, his footsteps drew closer, stopping just about where the doorway would be. He let out a long breath through his nostrils but didn't speak.

"I've always wanted to tell you that you were wrong. That I hate you. But the thing is... you're never wrong. You're always right about me," she whispered. Her eyes were wide open, staring blankly down at her leg.

"So I want to hate you even more. That makes sense, right? I should be able to hate. I'm good at that." As she spoke, he crossed the threshold, stepping calmly over the wet tile with his bare feet. He crouched beside her, just close enough for her to hear his deep sigh.

"But you won't even let me do that," she added with a laugh. But when she took another breath, it warped into a shaky sob. Fingernails of her left hand jamming deep into her thigh, she was frozen. Teeth bared with her right arm twisted around her face, she was huddled up in the corner of her shower like some sort of caged animal. Her hiccupping breaths echoed off the tiles, throwing themselves back at her like cruel taunts. When his hand lightly settled on her shoulder, she jerked away from him, digging her shoulder further into the corner of the shower.

"Come on. You're cold. Let's get you cleaned up," he urged in a patient voice.

She suddenly lunged, grabbing onto him with her hands, clenching her fingers tightly onto his shirt. Blood soaked into the fabric from where her nails had gouged her own skin.

"Why won't you let me hate you? I slept with Kimimaro, with Itachi. I just fucked Zetsu while I treated you like crap under my shoe. So why won't you hate me?" she hissed, her face twisting, lip curling.

"Because I'm the idiot that keeps running after you and you're the bitch that keeps pushing me away. Remember? That's the game we play, sweetheart," he replied with a hollow chuckle.

"I don't want to play anymore," she said in a barely audible voice. Still, it echoed, bouncing around, ringing on and on even when the sound should have been gone already. He placed his hand on the back of her head, slowly pulling her to his chest. After a long time, after her jerky sobs had subsided and her shoulders had stopped shaking, she cautiously looked up at him. In a strange twinge of masochism, she almost wanted him to be looking at her with anger or disdain or at the very least impatience. But he just looked tired. They eyed each other for a moment. When he leaned in to kiss her, she turned her head away, letting his lips brush against her temple instead.

"I thought you didn't want to play anymore," he murmured.

"I'm still scared. I don't know how to stop."

So Gaara firmly took her face in his hands. He was stronger than her. Even with all her training, he was still stronger than her. It was impossible for her to turn away this time when he pressed his mouth to hers in a hungry kiss that felt like it was sucking the life straight out of her. When she tried to squirm away, he shoved her back. The tile wall was icy against her back while his chest burned hers. The water circling the drain ran pink as the blood from her palms trickled down.

"Why don't you hate me, Gaara?" she demanded as she wrenched her lips free. His hold on her had slipped down to her throat, hands curled around like he was considering strangling her. Gaara blinked at her as water trickled into his eyes. The clear jade of his irises hurt to look at when he frowned at her.

"That's a stupid question. You already hate yourself enough without me hating you too," Gaara replied. The choked sound of her sobbing laugh sounded too shrill to her own ears. She sat in a crumpled heap in the shower as Gaara twisted the knob to stop the water. He stood, searching the bathroom for a towel. He rubbed her hair dry as best as he could before he took a second towel and dried her arms and legs and torso. He helped her to her feet, her knees wobbling from sitting in one place from wedging herself into such an awkward position for so long. Swaddling her in his arms like some overgrown, grotesque baby, Gaara carried her to the bed. Not even bothering with clothes, Gaara laid her on the bed and pulled the sheets and thick comforter over her.

"Stay," she said. She had intended to sound stronger, a little more assertive. Instead the word came out as a request.

"I was going to, **Hime**," Gaara replied as he began unbuckling his belt. His jeans and wife-beater were tossed on the floor next to her abandoned robe. The mattress dipped as he crawled into bed beside her. Though the layers of luxury blankets did little to warm her, when he pulled her against his chest, his skin felt blissfully warm against hers. She felt his lips on the back of her neck, tickling at her throat and travelling down to kiss her shoulders. She peered up at him through her damp eyelashes and it was clear from the expression on his face what it was that he wanted to ask her. She hesitated for an instant. Her palms were pressed flat against his chest. When he moved his arm, she watched the taut muscle ripple under his pale skin.

"Sakura?"

Something inside her begged her not to push this man away. His tousled red hair and the tattoo partially obscured by his bangs seemed to echo back a million years. She remembered his face that first night she had seen him fight. She could recall his arrogant grin whenever he won. She remembered the stale taste of cigarettes that lingered in her mouth when he carried her through the snow. So after a moment of thought, she linked her arms around the back of his neck and let his full weight settle over her.

Hours later, when entire house had fallen quiet, when silence had engulfed every room, Sakura's eyes fluttered open. She blinked against the absolute whiteness that met her. She listened to the deep exhalation in her left ear.

"Awake?" His slightly husky voice rumbled deep inside his chest. Feather-light kisses touched her cheeks, her temples, her eyelids. When she nodded, his arms tightened around her. Gaara was lying on his side with his back to the door, curling around her. The feel of his big hands on her back as he pulled her even closer was alien to her. When she tilted her head back, it was the blazing crimson of his hair that broken the unbearable whiteness. The curve of his easy smile was almost painful to look at. She wanted to take a peek past the blankets, to see what time it was. But they were wrapped up in a tangled cocoon of hot flesh and sacred whispers that she was reluctant to move at all. As she took a deep breath to clear her head, she realized that Gaara was staring at her, his eyes startlingly clear and alert. It was so unlike the soothing lethargy that had settled over her and seeped into her limbs. She searched for the right words, for the phrase that he was waiting for. But when she drew a blank, when she came to the conclusion that she had no idea what he wanted from her, Sakura closed her eyes and pressed her ear to his chest.

Gaara didn't speak, but the soothing lullaby of his heart lulled her to sleep.


	9. Omake: Break

Someone asked me a while back what would have happened to Sakura had her brother never disappeared. The idea confused me because a large part of her character was shaped by the anger and loneliness she experienced as a child. So this is a short little thing, not even a full chapter, mostly written for my enjoyment.

* * *

Nightshade

Omake: Break

"_Did you have fun today, Sakura-chan?" Deidara whispered as he smoothed her hair back. Sakura snuggled deeper under the covers, nodding sleepily. He kissed her forehead and tucked her favorite teddy bear; the one Sasori had bought for her, under her arm. It was what he did every night before bed time. But for some reason, his face looked a little different._

"_Onii-chan?" Sakura said. Deidara's eyes drifted down to her. She felt like he wasn't really seeing her, even though he was right there. She reached out her hand and he took it in his own. His fingers were big and strong._

"_I love you, Onii-chan," she said. Even though it had been over a year ago, she felt the same way she had the morning she had woken up and found her mother hanging from the ceiling. But she didn't know what to say or how to make things better. She stared up at his loving face and her chest hurt again._

"_Love you too, Sakura-chan. Sweet dreams, yeah," Deidara replied. He released her hand and stood. For a moment, he looked down at her and he looked so terribly sad that Sakura thought he might cry. But then he put on his usual smile, patted her head one last time and left._

_Sakura stared up at the ceiling, trying her best to figure out what felt so wrong. After a morning in the park, they had eaten lunch, watched a movie and had cake and hot chocolate before bed. But she was too tired to keep her eyes open for very long. As her eyes slid shut and sleep beckoned, she felt something nag at the very edges of her mind. She reached up, and touched her very first Christmas present. Deidara's ornate lighter hung from a long chain around her neck. She clutched it tightly in her hands, curling up on her side._

_And for the first time, she realized that her brother hadn't said "see you tomorrow, Sakura-chan" before bed._

* * *

"Hello?"

"Ah, Sakura-sama? Danzo-sama has demanded your presence," Sasori said, his voice a little less composed than usual. Sakura's heart constricted and then sank to the soles of her feet. She could feel her face grow cold as all the blood drained from her cheeks. Her fingers gripped her phone a little too tightly to try and hide the fact that they were shaking.

Sakura sucked in a breath through her teeth before replying, "Oh…that was unexpected."

She was sitting at the counter in the kitchen, her feet dangling limply from the high stool. The glass of cranberry juice in front of her tinkled as a chunk of ice broke free and grated against the clear sides of the cup. She jumped when the refrigerator door opened. When she looked up, she saw his bare back framed in the light as he dug through the shelves for food.

"Sakura-sama?"

"Oh…. Yeah…." Sakura slowly said as she remembered the phone clenched in her hand. Her voice wavered. The back straightened.

"Onii-chan… Onii-chan, the phone…. I can't…" she stuttered, holding out the phone. And Deidara turned, holding a can of cold coffee in his left hand. His cerulean eyes narrowed as he took the phone and held it up to his ear. He took his free arm and put it around Sakura's shoulders, pulling her close.

"What the hell is that old bastard thinking, yeah?" Deidara grumbled. But his tone softened when he felt Sakura trembling against his chest. He pressed his palm against her cheek and she placed both her smaller hands over his, tightening her fingers around his. A tiny noise escaped her that sounded suspiciously like a whimper.

"He wants to take us out to dinner? Why?"

Sakura's fingers dug into his almost painfully but Deidara was too irritated to care. After a few more tense minutes of listening, Deidara scoffed and disconnected the call, throwing it carelessly onto the counter.

"Onii-chan… do we have to go?" Sakura inquired in a small voice after a moment. Deidara's jaw was tight as he let out a tense sigh. When he finally looked down at her, his cerulean eyes were gentle again. He touched her bottom lip with his thumb.

"We have to leave in an hour. Go get ready, yeah," Deidara said and Sakura blinked back the tears that welled up in her eyes. Her fingers slid down his arm, tracing over the jagged scar at his elbow. His free hand pulled her hair away from her eyes, tucking the long strands behind her ear.

"It'll be okay. I'll keep you safe," he whispered, kissing her temple. Sakura nodded mutely, her eyes focused on the floor. She could feel the frown in his voice as he rested his head on top of her head.

"You don't trust your brother?"

Sakura pouted a little as she traced patterns over his arm with her finger.

"It's not that. I… I'll go get ready," Sakura sighed as she disentangled herself. Deidara chuckled as he pulled her back, throwing his arms around her.

"I'm joking. You know you're more important to Onii-chan than anything else in the world, yeah?" Deidara said, pulling away to look into her eyes. Sakura's mouth pulled up into a tentative smile as she nodded. Her bangs bounced against her forehead with the movement and falling back into her eyes.

"Okay. Now go," Deidara ordered before he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and gave her a light push.

Sakura hurried across the apartment and into her bedroom. The ceiling was painted with an elaborate mural of the night sky, complete with glittering stars and a big golden moon that seemed to glow all by itself. Ignoring the huge bed covered with a gauzy white canopy, she flicked the switch by her closet to turn on the light inside. Inside her walk-in closet, she headed to the wall reserved just for formal clothes. To her surprise, there were a few garment bags at the end of the rack that still smelled faintly of new fabric. She tugged the zippers down and found three brand new dresses all tailored perfectly to her size. Sighing with pleasure, she ran her fingers along the shimmering trains. Even though there were times where her brother went for months without buying new shoes that were falling apart at the soles, he always found money to shower her with new dresses and things that glittered. Although a small part of her always felt sorry, she knew it would hurt her brother not to accept his gifts so she always accepted his presents with a big smile.

Sakura found her fingers lingering over the middle dress and she took a step forward to take a better look. It was strapless with a tight-fitting bodice covered in swirling crystals that she suspected were from some ridiculous European designer who sewed each piece on by hand or something of the sort. The rest of the dress flowed down in a graceful shape that would hug her figure just enough to remain flattering but demure. The silk fabric was colored soft champagne that was just a few shades darker than her pale skin. Just as her fingers reached for the white plastic hanger, there was a soft knock on the door to the closet.

"Do you like it?" Deidara inquired as he stood knotting his necktie. Sakura eyed the light silvery-gold shade of his tie and her mouth pulled down into a frown.

"What?" he laughed, pretending not to understand her suspicious expression. Still pouting, she took a few steps toward him and took hold of his tie, lightly swatting his clumsy hands away.

"Honestly Onii-chan, how old are you and you still can't knot your own tie?" she scolded, trying to fight her own smile. She ignored his glower as she deftly looped the tie into itself and neatly tied it into the perfect shape. After a quick tug to straighten it, she tucked it into his black jacket where it sat nicely against his crisp white shirt. He smiled as he put his hand on the back of her head and pressed a noisy kiss to her forehead.

"Because I've got a perfect sister who can do it for me, yeah," Deidara replied with a grin. Sakura still pretended to frown at him as she put her hands on his chest.

"My silly brother. What would you do without me?" she sighed, idly fingering one of his buttons. For a moment, his expression darkened. A low sigh left him that seemed to come from the very bottoms of his feet. He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.

"Go get dressed. I'll be in the kitchen," Deidara quietly said. His fingers brushed through her long hair as he pulled away. Then, turning on his heel, he silently strode out of her room. Sakura stood mutely in the middle of the closet, her fingers clenching into the bottom of her shirt. The inexplicable pain that had welled up in his eyes pierced straight through her chest and she couldn't stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks. After the sniffles subsided, she slipped into the bathroom next to her room and washed her face with icy water over and over until the puffiness around her eyes settled. She brushed her long hair dutifully until it shone and the tips curled gently over her collarbones and her hands finally stopped shaking. A dash of cherry lip gloss and a quick brush of mascara was all she needed before she pulled the soft dress over her head. And she stood numbly in front of the mirror, unable to sit for fear of wrinkling her dress, until she faintly heard her brother's voice from the kitchen and she walked out to him with her shoes dangling limply from her hands. She stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and found Deidara sitting at the counter where she had been before. The weary hunch of his shoulders was almost enough to make her want to cry again.

"I'm ready," she said in barely above a whisper. Deidara's mouth immediately pulled up into a faint smile although he couldn't hide the anxiety in his gaze. He got to his feet and crossed the room to pull her into a tight hug.

"Don't be scared. Don't be scared, baby. Your brother will protect you," he whispered fiercely. And although he was speaking to her, trying to ease the fear solidifying into a heavy knot in the pit of her stomach, Sakura couldn't help but feel that he was talking less to her and more to himself. But that didn't stop the rush of adoration she felt for her strong, loving older brother who held her close until all she could smell was the heady fragrance of his French cigarettes and the tang of his cologne.

The drive to the restaurant was short, barely 15 minutes. But to Sakura, it felt that as soon as she buckled her seat belt, they were parked in front of the luxurious venue and the valet was holding the door open. He held out his gloved hand to her, offering to help her stand. But Deidara quickly stepped out of the car and looped around, eyeing the young valet pointedly. The young man reddened as he quickly stepped aside, apologizing profusely.

"Sakura-chan? Are you alright, yeah?" Deidara quietly inquired, his eyes narrowing. Sakura slowly nodded, her eyes beginning to focus in on him. Before he could say anything else, Sakura put her hand in his and let him help her to her feet. Deidara tossed his keys at the valet without looking at him and laced his fingers with Sakura's before he led them into the restaurant. The snooty host greeted them with a fake French accent that quickly disappeared when he recognized the unusually paired siblings who really didn't resemble each other at all. Trembling, he led them to a table in the back of the restaurant, away from the babble of the other customers seated towards the front of the establishment.

"P-please e-en-enjoy your m-meals. Y-Your waiter will be here in a –m-moment," the poor man stuttered, close to tears. Sakura froze as she gazed upon the man sitting at table who was leisurely scanning through a newspaper. Her fingers felt icy as she squeezed down hard on Deidara's hand. He didn't even blink as he bore with the pain and calmly stroked the back of her hand with his thumb until she felt the ugly ball of anxiety in her chest loosen the tiniest bit.

"Good evening, Danzo-sama," Sakura greeted the man with a confidence she didn't feel at all. In fact, the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely was the warmth of her brother's fingers around hers.

"Father," Deidara curtly said, barely inclining his head. They waited, unmoving until Danzo finished reading his column and set his newspaper down with a dry rustle. His cold sepia eyes skated right over Deidara and instead rested on Sakura. The corner of his severe mouth might have twitched as he carefully looked Sakura over. She shuddered under his scrutinizing gaze but kept her head lowered, not daring to look into his eyes.

"You look more and more like her every day." His tone was laced with the usual disdain, but Sakura couldn't help but notice the subtle softness that lingered in his voice.

"Sit," Danzo ordered, this time also looking at Deidara.

Dinner, as usual, was a mostly silent affair accompanied by the faint scrapes of cutlery against plates and the occasional trickle of wine flowing into glasses. As the waiter came by to take away their empty plates, Danzo wiped his mouth with his napkin before he folded his hands on top of the table and turned his head to look at Sakura.

"I've been told that your academic standing is excellent. Valedictorian, just like I was," Danzo began and she could have almost sworn that he looked a tiny bit less terrifying than usual.

"I'll expect you to continue with this excellence. And Deidara, I expect you'll continue to follow orders," Danzo said before he rose. Sakura's legs were shaking so hard that she almost couldn't stand along with her brother. She bowed low as she watched Danzo walk out of the restaurant. The sheer relief at having survived yet another meal with such a chilling man prompted tears to spring up in her eyes. She watched a few clear droplets drop onto the tablecloth. She stayed in that position for a long time, not daring to move until she felt Deidara's hands on her shoulders.

"It's okay, baby. He's gone, yeah. He can't hurt you now," Deidara murmured into her hair as she gripped the front of his shirt. He motioned the waiter over to hand him a crisp bill before he threw his jacket over Sakura's shoulders and ushered her out of the lavish restaurant.

Sakura sobbed inconsolably all the way home.


	10. Hemlock

_Am I happy? Ask me a better question. Ask me if I'm satisfied._

_I don't understand what being happy means. I see vapid, useless people leading their insignificant lives and claiming that they're happy. I don't see any meaning in that. _

_But I'm not satisfied either. There are so many things I want to do with this power. So many people I want to reach. Some of them, it's because I want to crush them under my heels and grind them into dust with so much satisfaction. People accuse me of having changed too much after gaining so much power. They say I've grown cold, cruel. _

_What's wrong with being cold?_

_If your heart's made of ice, doesn't that make it so much easier to shatter?_

_Now, I hear you ask if I'm satisfied. Why bother to ask? Isn't that obvious?_

_Of course I'm not satisfied._

* * *

Nightshade

Chapter 7: Hemlock

The early stirrings of the morning were interrupted by Sakura's sigh. They spoke in whispers, hushed sounds that brushed past the silence rather than breaking through it. Gaara's fingers tightened on her thighs as he let out a strained grunt. He leaned over, pressing his forehead to her shoulder. After a moment, his hands turned gentle, running soothingly over the flesh that would probably be bruised later. She could feel the apology in his touch as he kissed her left shoulder.

"Did I put you to sleep?" he asked in a low voice that rumbled up his chest when she didn't move for a while. Sakura found the energy to pull up the corner of her mouth in a smirk. Their gazes met and she pressed her palm to his cheek for a moment. Gaara's expression shifted, as if he were preparing to say something to her. But then he suddenly rolled off of her, flopping onto the mattress with a profound sigh of relief.

"Shut up," Sakura sighed as she yanked the tangled sheets up from the foot of the bed and curled up in the little warmth they offered. Despite her prickly tone, she didn't complain when Gaara threw his arm over her and pulled her into his chest.

"That good, huh?" Gaara said in response with an arrogant lilt to his voice that almost made her smile. Sakura pressed her cheek against his collarbone, listening to his breaths evening out and the ticking of the clock on the nightstand. From the way he had grown quiet, she began to wonder if he was the one who had been put to sleep.

"You okay?" he suddenly asked. Sakura let out a yawn as she tilted her head to look up at him.

"Yeah," she said.

And it was true. The angry hisses that normally thundered at her eardrums were mere shadows of noises in the very corner of her mind. The darkness lingering in the corners of the room wasn't teeming with invisible voices of judgment. When she closed her eyes for an instant, she dared to hope that perhaps even her dreams would be just as peaceful. So she decided to try.

Sakura slept without fear for the first time in many years.

She slept and slept and slept without dreams until she woke up to Gaara sliding out from beneath her. It wasn't really the motion that roused her but the sudden lack of warmth, the stark coldness of the bed without him. With the heavy curtains drawn, it was difficult to tell what time it was. She cracked an eye open just in time to see him walking to the bathroom. Her gaze lingered appreciatively over the definition in his muscles before she closed her eyes again and buried her head under a pillow. She heard the toilet flush and the faucet run before she felt rough fingers sliding over her toes.

"What time is it?" she asked in a mumbling sigh.

"Almost 6," he said as his hands moved to her calves, massaging the muscles there. Sakura sat up to pull back the edge of the curtain. The sky was a soft blur of purple and orange that made it impossible to tell whether the sun was rising or setting.

"In the morning," Gaara answered her unvoiced question. She lingered at the window for another instant, looking out at the lifeless front yard until Gaara's fingers travelled to her outer thighs. He crawled towards her from the foot of the bed so she finally tore herself away from the glass.

"Why? Big plans for today?" he inquired. Sakura ran her fingers through his hair a little less gently than he had expected. Her eyes were fixed on his forehead but she wasn't really seeing him at all.

"We have a very special guest coming," she replied in a soft voice. She could feel his gaze on her as he tried to untangle her words. But she didn't say anything else. She didn't explain to him.

"Whatever. I'm the most special guest around here anyway," he retorted with surprisingly convincing levity. Looking as if he didn't care at all, he grabbed the edge of the covers and pulled them over both of them. His arms locked around her tightly, as if he were determined to never let her escape. It would have been a little uncomfortable had it not been the one thing distracting her from the heavy knot of worry forming in her chest. Her eyes drifted towards the window again before Gaara did what he always did and rolled over so that it was his back to the door. She stared at his collarbone, at the tips of his red hair until she heard his breathing even out into a soft doze. Even then, his hold was strong. But it was only there, trapped, that she was able to close her eyes and remember what it was like to sleep again.

An hour later, Sakura was pulled out from a deep slumber by a half-articulated string of curse words against her right shoulder. She grumbled too as she felt Gaara pulling away from her. Her body felt unbearably cold in his absence so she pulled a pillow close, trying to substitute the warmth. This time, she was too comfortable to bother opening even one of her eyes. Instead, she listened to his bare feet on the floor. The door handle squeaked a little when he turned it and the fragrance of tea floated inside as she heard the door open.

"Breakfast, sir. And a message from Pein-san," she heard the butler say a little stiffly, most likely in response to Gaara's stark nudity. Turning onto her side to face the door, Sakura lifted an arm to grab their attentions.

"From Pein?" she prompted, not even opening her eyes. There was a long pause and then she heard Gaara travel back to the bed. He crawled back into the warm cocoon of sheets while Homura's crisp footsteps clipped across the floorboards.

"Pein-san wishes to inform you that your special delivery passed inspection and will be arriving within a few hours. He also recommends that you keep a close eye on a man named Yakushi Kabuto," Homura informed her in his emotionless, dry voice.

"On Kabuto? Why? What has that pest managed to do this time?" she sighed as she slowly sat up, pulling the covers up to hide her bare chest. She felt the backs of Gaara's fingers skim down her spine.

"This is all the information I've been given, Sakura-sama," Homura simply said. Something about his detached tone alerted her that he most likely did know something else. But he was wise to remain quiet. Sakura slowly opened her eyes, running her right hand through her messy hair. Homura's hands were crossed behind his back. There wasn't a single wrinkle in his black suit or a scuff on his polished shoes. Sakura regarded her butler for an extra moment before she waved her hand at him.

"Very well. Be sure to pass this news on to Itachi," Sakura instructed. She watched the butler calmly bow before he wheeled a silver cart into the room. It was only after he closed the door behind him that Sakura looked over at Gaara. He was lying on his back beside her, his arm thrown over his face. When she lightly nudged his elbow, his arm fell away, revealing clear green eyes.

"No rat poison cookies this morning?" Gaara asked, crossing his arms behind his head. She barely casted a glance back at the cart laden with breakfast as she shook her head.

"You haven't even checked," he pointed out.

"Gaara, do you honestly think that it was the kitchen staff trying to poison me? Don't be foolish. There was a reason that I left certain people back in Ame," she sighed. As she slipped out of bed, she felt his eyes trailing after her. She picked up her red silk robe from where he had left it on her dresser. When she pulled her arms through the sleeves, the cold fabric hugged her skin in a fond welcome. Flipping her hair over the collar, she looked over her shoulder at Gaara.

"It was Sasori," she finally explained. At this, Gaara bolted upright.

"What? Isn't that guy one of your most trusted followers?" Gaara demanded. Letting out a light laugh, Sakura crossed the room to take the lid off the cart. There was a delicate white and blue teapot matched by two cups and two saucers. A small plate of fluffy pastries sat in the corner along with another plate of finger sandwiches. The crusts had been carefully trimmed away, leaving soft white bread cut into neat little rectangles.

"He thinks…. He thinks that if I get sick, it'll be his job to find an antidote. Then, he might become my favorite if he saves my life. It's sad, isn't it? That's why I pretend not to know. And if I don't catch him one day, I suppose he's earned that right," she said. She pulled back her sleeve with one hand as she poured the tea. The slightly sweet fragrance of Lady Grey spilled into the air as she handed one cup to Gaara who just stared at it as if he didn't understand the concept of drinking. Settling on the edge of the bed, she folded her legs underneath her body. She inhaled deeply through her nose, taking in the rich scent that wafted up from the tea before she finally took a sip.

"What's wrong? It's clean," asked Sakura when she noticed Gaara blankly staring down at his drink. Sakura leaned over to set her cup down on the cart and the edges of her robe parted, exposing her pale thighs. The nail marks usually weren't obvious at all. But in the light of the room, with the way that the rising sun had begun to peek past the edges of the curtain, the little half-crescents bloomed in a criss-crossing pattern across her skin. It would have been beautiful had he not known what had made such an intricate design. When she reached for one of the sandwiches, she heard Gaara shift before his hand rested on the inside of her thigh.

"What've you been doing for 10 years, Haruno?" he sighed. Sakura didn't respond. She sat calmly eating her sandwich while Gaara sat running his finger along each of her scars, like the touch would help erase them.

"Eat something," she ordered, as if she hadn't heard anything he had said. Wiping the crumbs off the corner of her mouth, Sakura stood, easily sliding out of Gaara's grasp. She draped her robe over the end of the bed as she made her way to the bathroom. She twisted the hot water faucet on in the tub with her foot. Then, she stood in front of the mirror, looking over the star-shaped scar on her stomach that had refused to fade with all the years. She brushed her fingers over it once before she climbed into the bathtub.

Gaara sat with his back against the wall, his knee drawn up to his chest. He didn't do anything. He just sat watching her, running his thumb along his chin as if deep in thought. Then he suddenly let his head fall back, closing his eyes as if he had fallen asleep. She sank low in the tub, until her nose was just above the water, just so she wouldn't have to see him.

That morning, Haruno Danzo arrived.

She and Itachi had long before decided that it would be safest to bring Danzo to Konoha in the most discrete way possible. Sakura blew bubbles into the water as she mulled over things in the steaming water. One of the top neurologists in the country had predicted that Danzo wouldn't survive a month after the unsuccessful assassination that had left him paralyzed and comatose. Though he sometimes wavered in and out of consciousness for no more than a minute at a time, several doctors had declared Danzo brain dead.

But Sakura knew her father, a cold, selfish man who would greedily cling to life even if it meant a life of suffering and indignity. Danzo was most certainly not dead and the only people aware of this fact were the members of Akatsuki. Even Koharu and Homura were left unaware of who the mysterious guest was who was never to be disturbed.

Sakura ran her fingers through her hair, twisting the wet strands around her thumbs until her scalp tingled and ached. She hurriedly shampooed her hair and washed her body before she yanked the plug out of the drain and stepped out of the tub. Gaara's eyes were wide open, shamelessly looking over her body as she looked around the bathroom for a clean towel hanging from the heated rack. Finding none, Sakura took a few steps to the small black linen cabinet in the corner and unfolded a soft yellow towel.

"You need anything from me today?" Gaara asked as she wrapped the towel around her middle and stepped into the bedroom. His eyes were closed again and if she hadn't seen his lips moving, she might have believed that he was sleeping. Sakura pursed her lips. Her fingers stroked lovingly over the handles of the double doors that led to her large closet. She paused to peer at Gaara over her shoulder. She watched him crack his neck before lying back down. The fierce gold and black tattoo spreading up his side flexed menacingly.

"I'll have Homura get you some suitable clothes. We're meeting with Madara today," Sakura finally said, yanking one of the doors open. She slipped into the brightly-lit room where rows and rows of luxurious clothing waited for her. Her eyes skated unseeingly over the usual section of black that she loved so dearly. Instead, her fingers sought out the whisper of silk. Her thumb touched a piece of red fabric and she stopped to pull the dress off the rack. Hooking the hanger over her middle finger, she sauntered over to the other side of the closet. She skimmed her hands over shoes before she lifted up a pair of deceptively dainty silver stilettos. When she tossed these items at the foot of the bed, Gaara's eyes cracked open.

"Madara? Isn't he the asshole who wants you dead?" Gaara snorted.

"Yes. But Madara's a tricky man. If he thinks Orochimaru is no longer useful, Madara won't hesitate to turn his back on him," Sakura explained, regurgitating the words of warning her brother had given her. She stopped talking when she remembered her brother. The men he had sent to protect her at the airport had been fairly useful and respectful. They had performed their duty and then quietly gone home.

Deidara was probably waiting for her to call.

She wouldn't. She wasn't grateful. She wouldn't thank him.

Sakura shook her head once, as if to clear her thoughts. Gaara was watching her with the same unreadable expression she often caught glimpses of on his face. A little furrow appeared between his eyebrows before he rolled onto his front and burrowed his head under a pillow.

"Oh and I need you to come with me somewhere tonight before that," Sakura added, tossing the words out like she hadn't been mulling over them for a while. She saw his eyebrow rise just before she turned away from him to grab clean undergarments from a drawer in her armoire.

"Like a date?" Gaara said in a half-teasing tone. Sakura's fingers froze while pulling the thin straps of her dress over her shoulders. Her mouth twitched, threatening to pull up in a smile. Gaara's eyes lingered curiously on her expression while Sakura straightened the garment across her chest. Like most of her clothing, it rode just low enough to expose the tattoo creeping over her heart with spindly legs.

"Don't be ridiculous. Zip me up," she briskly ordered while sitting on the edge of the bed. Letting out a deep sigh, he slid over to help her. But instead of doing what Itachi usually did, quickly pulling teeth together and then releasing her, Gaara ran his hands down the exposed expanse of her back. His fingers touched the scar that would match on the other side of her abdomen. She felt his lips touch her shoulder blades and tickle down her spine before pressing against the back of her neck.

"Stop that," she said in a voice tinged with impatience. Gaara hesitated, like he was considering rebelling against her. But then he zipped up her dress in one smooth movement.

"Be ready by 9 tonight. I have some business to tend to," Sakura sighed as she stood. She pulled her wet hair into a bun before she slipped out of the room. Gaara's eyes followed her back on the way out, stabbing her even though she didn't know what kind of expression he was wearing.

Itachi met her in the hallway. Actually, he was lying on the staircase, his body sprawling diagonally across several steps. When she approached, padding with bare feet, his eyes flicked up to her. The crimson flooding his irises pierced straight through her eyes, wriggling all the way into her brain. His gaze darted down to her dress, up to her face again, down to her stilettos hanging brazenly from her fingers.

"What are you doing?" she asked with a weak laugh as she crouched down by his head. Itachi didn't say anything as he took in her face free of all make-up. Even the minimal amount of eyeliner and lipstick she always wore was gone. He rarely saw her this way. There was a faint freckle just above the right side of her mouth. A white line graced her left temple, an old scar that she never remembered where it was from whenever he asked. He reached up, running his thumb across it.

"I want you to come with me tonight," Sakura softly said as she put her hand over his and slowly guided it off her cheek.

"I still don't think it's wise for you to meet Madara at this point, Sakura," he replied, eyebrows furrowing.

"I know you don't. But I still need you there. And bring Sasuke. I really want to piss off Orochimaru," she instructed as he mouth pulled into a cruel smile. She leaned over to press a kiss to his jaw. He half-expected it to leave a red smudge on his skin, despite the fact that her mouth was pale. Out of habit, he ran his thumb along the spot, just to make sure that nothing was there. Sakura raised an eyebrow at him.

"You smell like him," Itachi quietly told her. Her smile faded.

"I know. It makes me a little sick too," she replied. Her fingers skimmed over his as she stood. Itachi didn't even pretend to try to move out of her way so she stepped over him, shoes still dangling useless from her left hand. The cool wood of the stairs spiraling up to the third floor made her shiver. Her right hand smoothed over the smooth banister, tracing over the rich mahogany until she reached the very last step.

"Hime?"

Sakura turned slowly, almost disdainfully, to face Hidan. He was wearing nothing but black dress pants and shoes. Blood flecked his hands and wrists. He was gripping his wrinkled shirt in his right hand and she could see the brown and red smeared into the white fabric. The weary slump of his shoulders and the absence of the cocky tilt of his head softened her attitude towards him a little.

"Hidan," she sighed wearily. The bruise on his cheek had finally begun to fade from dark purple to an ugly shade of yellow tinged with blue around the edges. He lingered an arm's length away from him like a sullen child until she looked him over once and then beckoned for him to come closer. It was almost funny how he tried to pretend he was still angry at her when he let his mouth twist into an arrogant sneer as he walked up to her.

"Did you just get in now?" Sakura inquired as she gathered chakra to her hand and touched his left hand that had been hanging limply at his side. He let out a low hiss of pain when she realized that his fingers were dislocated. With a tenderness that she rarely saved for him, Sakura took his hand in her own and carefully touched each of his fingertips. She paused for a moment when she felt a familiar chakra signature flare in greeting.

There weren't many people who still knew how to manipulate chakra. The art had died out many years ago, Danzo had once told her, right about when western technology had made its way to Japan. The great shinobi arts had been buried and hidden in the bloodlines of the old families, kept secret and guarded closely. It was only when men such as Danzo and Orochimaru had surfaced, manipulating this great power, that people had rediscovered the art. Even then, only those twisted into the rotting underbelly of Japan were able to learn about it at all. Only some were capable of learning. Each time Sakura drew chakra to her hand, she was reminded of the story she had read over and over in some of the short moments she had been allowed in Danzo's study as a child.

A great medic. A powerful woman. Her ancestor for whom she was accidentally named. Aiko couldn't have possibly known about such a lineage. But the Haruno Sakura from nearly a 1000 years ago had long rotted away and the only thing Sakura shared with that woman were looks and the ability to use chakra to twist the body into what she wanted.

"Itachi, Zabuza and Haku are here. Go talk to them for me," Sakura said, raising her voice just enough for it to drift down the stairs. But Itachi had already started moving before she had asked him to. The click of his shoes down the corridor echoed and twisted into strange noises even after he had gone downstairs. When Sakura turned her attention back to Hidan, she found that he had been watching her.

"Something on my face?" she asked as she grasped his thumb, which had twisted all the way around, and wrenched it back into place.

"Fuck!" Hidan spat but didn't move. She popped to other fingers back into place, earning similar reactions. Channeling soothing green to her free hand, she cradled Hidan's tender appendage.

"I'm not going to apologize to you, Hime," Hidan gruffly said. Sakura glanced into his purple eyes once with a smirk.

"I know you won't. I don't think you would know how to even if you tried, Hidan," Sakura retorted. His mouth twisted down like he wanted to retort with one of his foul-mouthed remarks, but he just looked away. When she patted the back of his hand a minute later, he glanced down at his perfectly arranged fingers. Even the swelling that had been bloating his fingers into sausages had disappeared.

"Are you still angry at me?" inquired Sakura as she dropped her shoes and slid her fingers up his arms, reaching up to press her cool palms to his cheeks. She watched his upper lip curl, uncurl. The twitching in his eyebrows as he scowled and then relaxed his facial muscles made her smile.

"Hidan, I'll never hate you. So don't be angry anymore, alright?" she said before she let her hands drop.

"Why?" Hidan demanded in such a lost voice that it sounded like it was coming from a different mouth, a different person.

"Why?" Sakura repeated. She looked down at the silver pendant hanging from his neck. It was a thin silver triangle circumscribed by a glittering ring. A few flecks of blood marred the surface in a few spots. She lightly touched it, relishing the feeling of the smooth metal. It was warm from resting against Hidan's chest.

"You're probably the one person in this entire place that remembers how to hate me," she sighed after a while. Sakura took a moment to pick up her shoes, dangling them easily from a finger each. When she turned away from him, taking a few steps down the hallway, she heard a hiss seep through his clenched teeth.

"I don't hate you, Hime. Why do you think I've been fucking following you for 10 goddamned years?" Hidan half-shouted. A smile touched at her lips though she didn't turn to look at him. Instead, she stopped walking and stared down at her bare feet.

"You hate me, Hidan. You hate me because you think you love me. You hate me because I won't love you. And you hate me because you can't hate me. But I do love you, Hidan. I love you because you hate me," Sakura slowly said, drawing out her words like she was singing. Hidan's silence was all that met her.

"Get some rest, Hidan. I have a feeling I'll need you to come with me tonight," she ordered in a suddenly stern voice. When his fingers encircled her wrist, she wasn't surprised. Hidan's fingers were rough, riddled with callouses and scars. She looked, not at him but at his fingers. The dirt crusted under his nails and the freshly-healed burn on the back of his wrist made her wonder why she didn't know where they were from.

"Sleep, Hidan. Sleep for now," Sakura softly said before she pulled free from his grasp. The sound of her name dying on his lips followed her even when she slipped into the small room in the middle of the hall that didn't seem any different from the others. But the small beep of a heart monitor told her otherwise. The new nurse they had hired to watch over Danzo was standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed, her thin fingers curling over the plain manila folder clutched to her chest. She was dressed in plain clothes, not scrubs, just as she had been instructed to. When Sakura quietly closed the door behind her, the nurse bowed so low that her forehead nearly touched her knees. With trembling fingers, she offered the folder to Sakura. But Sakura pushed it aside.

"Give me a moment," Sakura said in what was clearly not a request. The nurse bowed again before she hurried out of the room, nearly knocking against the doorframe in her haste to be gone.

"Why're you still alive, old man?" Sakura sighed once the room had gone quiet again. The wheeze of the artificial respirator hooked up to his lungs answered her.

"You should have died 10 years ago, you bastard. Why won't you just die and leave me in peace?" As she spoke, her fingers trailed over the cord hooking up the life support machine to the outlet in the wall. She knew with one sharp tug, she could probably end his life. The rattling of his artificial breaths made gooseflesh rise all over her arms but she couldn't find the strength to tug sharply.

The sight of his wrinkled face was poison on her tongue.

All the words she wanted to say to him faded into a burning disgust that made her stomach churn. Sakura spared Danzo's blank, sallow face one last stare before she left the room, slamming the door behind her. The nurse was standing in a twitchy, nervous stance just by the door. Sakura barely glanced at her before she walked off. Not meeting the eyes of anyone she passed in the hallways, Sakura made her way straight down to her bedroom. Gaara's head poked out from the bathroom, his damp hair hanging in his eyes. One look at his clear jade eyes made bile rise to the back of her throat. Sakura flung her shoes to the ground before she hurried out of the room, half-running in the direction of Itachi's chakra. She found him in the living room downstairs talking to Zabuza and Haku. When she appeared in the doorway, their voices died down. While Zabuza and Haku turned to look at her with curiosity, Itachi didn't look at all surprised. And while the other two stood, bowing respectfully, Itachi simply patted the empty space on the couch next to him.

"I hate everything," Sakura sighed as she threw herself into the indicated seat. She let her head fall into his lap as she curled up, back to her two guests.

"You were saying?" Itachi calmly prompted, unperturbed by Sakura's sudden mood swing.

Her head felt like it would explode as Zabuza began speaking again in his gravelly voice.

Even though Itachi probably had many things to do that day, he stayed with her the entire day. She didn't talk, didn't eat. Sakura lay lifelessly in his lap, only moving once to go to the bathroom and have a smoke. A grey haze settled over the room, lingering in the air with its sharp perfume. The flick of a lighter and the sizzle of paper were the only sounds except for the quiet rustles of Itachi turning the pages of his novel that Sakura knew he had finished hours before.

When it was time to go, Itachi touched the side of her neck with his fingers. She stared up at his patient expression, feeling guilt well up in the pit of her stomach for having stolen the day from him.

"No make-up today?" he asked. Sakura ran her tongue along her dry bottom lip. She watched his eyes darken a shade as they focused in on her mouth for a moment.

"What's the point when I feel so hideous on the inside?" Sakura sighed faintly. Itachi bent his head to press a lingering kiss to her mouth.

"You're beautiful," Itachi simply said in response. Sakura suddenly hated how that phrase sounded like the fragment of some broken recording. Even the gentle curve of his mouth felt plastic to her.

She abruptly stood, shoving his steadying hands away. By the time she made it back to her bedroom, she expected Gaara to be gone. Instead, he was sitting on the windowsill, leg swinging like a pendulum. His other leg was folded beneath him and the bare curve of his back warped the coiling dragon ripping up his side.

"Why aren't you dressed? We leave in twenty minutes," Sakura asked as she walked past him and into the bathroom. As she had instructed, Homura had purchased a black suit just like the ones that the members of Akatsuki wore. The thin red tie draped over the edge of the hanger was just a shade lighter than Gaara's hair. Sakura stood applying eyeliner with a steady hand while Gaara wandered in past her and sat on the edge of the bathtub. He stared at her for a while, all the way until she put on lipstick and mashed her lips together to make sure the red spread evenly.

"You're avoiding me," he said in a sullen tone.

"I'm not. Stop being such a child and get ready," Sakura snapped as she ran her fingers through her hair.

"You're avoiding me. Why?"

When Sakura ignored him, he fell silent again. She checked over her face one last time in the mirror, refusing to let her gaze drift to him again. He sat motionlessly, an angry statue. Just his accusatory eyes followed her as she walked out of the bathroom and straight past the shoes she had thrown aside earlier. Inside her closet, she stood trying to pick out another pair that would go with her outfit.

Just as her right hand closed over a pair of black pumps, she heard the closet doors slam shut and lock. The lights flickered off and all she could feel was Gaara's mouth, on her lips, on her throat. He pushed her until her back hit the wall. Without warning, he yanked the edge of her dress all the way up to her hips. The sharp rip of the fabric tearing sounded like a scream. The feeling of his fingers twisting her panties aside and plunging into her made her cry out. With her free hand, she grabbed onto his shoulder, trying to find a way to support herself as her knees buckled. The sound of her panting and his ragged breaths mingled with the wet noises coming from between her legs. When she came, it was with a strangled noise that stuck in the back of her throat.

Then he was plunging into her mercilessly in hard rocking motions that made her bones rattle. She couldn't articulate words, only twisted her hand into his shirt as she listened to his animalistic grunts. As he drove harder and harder into her, he bent forward and she felt cool moisture touch the side of her throat. His calloused and scarred fingers pressed into her hips, digging into soft flesh.

She knew when he was near the edge. His rhythm broke as he dissolved into rough thrusts that made her shoulder blades grind against the wall.

He stood for a long time, not moving. When he finally released her, she felt his fingers shaking. Sakura stared blankly at the invisible face before her. Though she could feel his harsh breaths, smell the musk of sex in the air, she didn't know what kind of expression he would be wearing then. She managed to unhook her right leg from around his waist, feeling him slide limply out of her. As warmth seeped down her thighs, Sakura moved around Gaara and felt the lock twist underneath her fingers. She slipped out of the closet, not looking back at Gaara even when she knew the light would finally reveal his face.

She stood in the middle of the room, staring down at her dress. The silk was bunched and twisted apart, the fabric split from the hem all the way up to her bellybutton. Her forehead puckered as she ran her thumb along the dark stains spotting part of the remains of the garment.

"I liked this dress," she flatly said before she shrugged out of it along with her soiled panties. As she slipped into the bathroom to clean herself up, she was sure she heard Gaara quietly call her name. But his voice was soft enough that she could pretend that it had been lost in the creak of the door closing behind her. When she emerged a few minutes later, she half-expected Gaara to be standing in her bedroom, standing over her discarded dress. Instead, she could see his silhouette outlined through the cracks in the closet doors.

"We're going to be late," Sakura reminded him as she slapped the switch and light flooded the closet. Gaara didn't move; he didn't even blink from the sudden brightness. He stared at the place she had been just a little while before. Acting like she didn't know why he was even there at all, Sakura ran her hand along the rainbow of dresses filling the racks before she settled on a simple black strapless piece that hit mid-thigh. She didn't ask him to help her with the zipper this time. She managed to reach around and contort until she yanked the grinning metal teeth together. It was only when she plucked a pair of bright red pumps from the rack that she saw Gaara blink.

"Get changed. Madara doesn't appreciate tardiness and neither do I."

This time, when Sakura stepped out of the closet, she heard Gaara shadow her in slow, uneven steps, like he wasn't sure how legs worked. When she walked up to the bathroom sink to wash off her dripping eyeliner and the lipstick smeared across her mouth and chin, she felt him hesitate to follow her. She listened to his low sigh before his bare feet slapped against the tile. As she wiped her face dry with a towel, Sakura finally glanced at Gaara in the mirror. His belt still hung limply, unbuckled though the fly of his pants was up. She could see the remnants of her lipstick staining his face. His eyes darted once towards her in the mirror before they looked away. It was strange to see shame in such a proud man.

"Sakura."

"Hm?" she said in response. He took a few steps toward her, as if he were gauging her reaction. When she just glanced at him once before returning to tracing the curve of her eyelashes with eyeliner, an odd noise left his mouth. It reminded her of the sound a dog made when it was in great pain. His stare on the back of her head was a little irritating by the time she was done with the other eye and curled her lashes. When she popped off the cap of her lipstick, Sakura froze. Gaara's hands were sliding tenderly over her back. He pressed his mouth to her right shoulder blade, pulling her against him in the process.

"I'm-"

"Don't apologize to me," Sakura softly interrupted as she put down her lipstick. His grip loosened so she turned around to face him. His hands rested loosely on her hips, like he was afraid that she should try to run away.

"Don't," she sighed. Her fingers ticked up his arms, curling onto his shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he murmured anyway as he closed the distance between them in a tender kiss. Sakura leaned against his bare chest for just a moment, running her tongue along his bottom lip. Before he had time to really react, she slipped free from his loosened grasp.

"You're not mad at me. I didn't hurt you?"

The corner of Sakura's mouth lifted into a flat smile that didn't reach her eyes. Gaara's hands slipped from her hips to rest on the counter, trapping her between his arms. As she felt his face press against her shoulder again, Sakura carefully painted her mouth in place.

"No, Gaara. I'm not mad at you," she assured him in a soft voice.

* * *

Hidan's hand slammed down on the wall next to Gaara's face. Gaara didn't flinch. He had been in enough bare knuckles fights that he took hits with his eyes open. He stared blankly at the fierce sneer twisting Hidan's face. Just behind him, he saw Itachi advancing down the hall with his own expression of quiet malice.

"Can I help you, jackass?" Gaara evenly said, his mouth curling up in the beginnings of an arrogant smirk. The expression didn't change when Hidan grabbed him by the front of his jacket and slammed him into the wall.

"Just because you can't use chakra doesn't mean the rest of us can't. We've been trained to sense it until it's more natural to us than breathing," Hidan snarled. Itachi stood over Hidan's shoulder, his irises flaring bright red.

"If you're trying to come on to me, I've got to disappoint you. I'm not into dudes," Gaara sneered. Hidan's hands tightened painfully.

"Just because Hime thinks you're cute and made you into her fuck toy doesn't mean you're untouchable. She may treat us like we're her friends but we made a deal with that bastard Danzo. We're the leader of Root's personal guards. Don't fucking look down on us, asshole," Hidan spat, giving Gaara an emphatic shake.

"And we keep tabs on her state through her chakra," Itachi cut in. Hidan's mouth snapped shut but his violet eyes didn't stop pouring out silent threats.

"Apathy, surprise, pain, anxiety, fear- in that order. And since you were with her, we made sure to keep track of you too, Mr. Sandman: sadness, frustration, lust, shame. It's not too difficult to put the pieces together," Itachi listed out.

"Listen, you piece of shit, I barely tolerate your presence in this house without you fucking up. Did you touch Hime in any way that she didn't consent to?" Hidan demanded in a low growl. As Gaara's mouth opened, the sharp click of high heels interrupted the tense exchange.

"Enough, Hidan. You two are clearly exaggerating and we're going to be late," Sakura interrupted as she touched Hidan's shoulder. He glared at her over his shoulder, upper lip twitching ferociously. When she raised an eyebrow at him, Hidan let out a string of particularly vulgar words. He shoved Gaara particularly hard into the wall one more time before he released him. Sakura eyed Hidan as if he were a child throwing a tantrum as she slipped her hand into his.

"Come, Hidan," she murmured as she led him down the hall.

Gaara brushed the wrinkles out of his jacket and shirt as he watched the two people's retreating backs. He glanced up when he felt Itachi's red stare burning into the side of his face.

"She's lying," Gaara finally said when he was sure that she wouldn't hear him.

"I know," Itachi immediately retorted, not even bothering to try to hide his contempt.

"Why would she do that?" Gaara asked. To his surprise, Itachi let out a short snort of what might have been laughter.

"I don't know. But whatever horrible thing you did that she let go, it'll poison you. It'll fester until every time you see her, you'll want to die," replied Itachi in a less rough voice. Surprised by the other man's words, Gaara glanced over at him.

"Why? What'd you do?" he huffed. Perfect Uchiha Itachi, Sakura's perfect right-hand-man seemed incapable of doing anything wrong to her. If she sneezed, he had already bought twelve different brands of tissues to accommodate her. He didn't even need to speak to communicate with her. Sometimes he would just look at her and she would say something in response or the other way around. But the way Itachi's gaze suddenly unfocused made Gaara begin to question this man's perfection.

"I asked her for something that I knew would end up hurting her," Itachi finally replied.

* * *

Madara's residence was buried deep in the heart of downtown Konoha. While he referred to it as his favorite vacation home, Sakura knew that he was spending more time in her city than he let on. As they drove past nightclubs and strip joints, Sakura felt something odd pass between Itachi, who was driving the car, and Gaara sitting beside her.

"Sasuke, have you had the pleasure of meeting Madara yet?" asked Sakura.

There was a startled pause. Since his arrival, Sakura hadn't really had much reason to address the younger Uchiha brother. She didn't really know what they had said to each other but now they were inseparable. Sasuke accompanied him everywhere and Sakura was quite satisfied with the arrangement. Sasuke looked over his shoulder at her.

"I don't think so," he finally replied.

"Oh. This will be much more fun then," Sakura said. When his eyebrow rose to question her, Sakura didn't say anything.

Sasuke faced forward again and Sakura felt Gaara's fingers brush the back of her hand. Sighing, she moved her hand out of the way to reach for a cigarette. It could have easily been a coincidence. His touch had been light enough for her not to really notice it. But as she placed the cigarette in her mouth and lit it up, she let her gaze drift to Gaara. Locking her eyes on his, she smiled just before smoke obscured the space between them.

* * *

"_It'll poison you."_

* * *

Thank you to all my reviewers and readers!


	11. Finite

Is it possible? Yes. I haven't quite given up on this project yet. Yet, I say as I drink my third cup of coffee in an hour.

Enjoy.

* * *

Nightshade

Chapter 8: Finite

_I just wanted to stop being scared all the time. Because if I took away all the things that frightened me, I would feel safe. That's what I believed at the time._

_But at some point, I realized that the ghostly face in the mirror was my own._

_And the most terrifying thing I knew had become myself._

* * *

The underground fighting circuit in Konoha hadn't changed much in 10 years. Gaara and Sasuke had attended a few fights here and there to meet informants or to exchange information during their search for Sakura. But Gaara's bitter memories of painful injuries and dirty money had kept him a fair distance from the ring. So when Sakura had Itachi drive straight to the same area in downtown Konoha that he had gone to several nights a week to make ends meet in high school could be seen as a little cruel.

Then again, Sakura realized, she already knew how cruel she could be.

"Pick us up in an hour. Don't be late," Sakura murmured as she leaned forward. When Itachi nodded, she ran her fingers along his cheek and smiled before she slipped out of the car. Gaara followed after her, his eyes darting nervously around the crowded streets. It was normal for there to be this many people milling around at this time. The bars were packed and the clubs crowded with lonely bodies looking for someone to warm them that particular night. This particular building was a rather new construction, part of a cluster of new, upscale establishments that had been established once Sakura had managed to clear out most of the riffraff in Konoha. The front was an upscale restaurant, which made it much less suspicious to see men and women dressed in lavish clothing going in and out. In the basement, however, hidden deep in the concrete to muffle the noise, was a brand new stadium. Money flowed freely into bloodied hands and more than a few people walked out with empty wallets.

"Table for two, please. A table with anemones," Sakura said to the maître d with a cool smile. His narrow eyes passed over her hair without comment though she saw a faint glint of recognition in his gaze. She was impressed by his professionalism. He bowed politely before he took up two menus and led them into the back of the restaurant where the private booths were located for VIP diners.

"We haven't had the pleasure of seeing you for quite some time, Haruno-sama," the maître d remarked as he led them down a narrow hallway. The walls were made of glass with water cascading down the sides. The tap of their feet on the marble floors was eerie, echoing off the too-tall ceilings.

"We'll have to fix that now won't we? Thank you very much for your help," Sakura replied when they reached a set of ornate gold elevator doors. She slipped a thick roll of bills into the maître d's gloved hands before he walked back down the hallway. Sakura hit the button and waited for the doors to open while Gaara eyed the luxurious place with some disdain.

"I think you'll be seeing some old friends around. Keep your head cool. We can't afford to garner too much attention tonight," Sakura said just as the doors slid open to reveal an elevator fit for a king…or an empress with pink hair. The mirrored walls and the thick gold carpeting all beckoned welcomingly. Sakura stepped inside and then crooked her finger for Gaara to follow. Since the actual arena was sunk deep in the ground, the elevator ride down took a few minutes. There was no new age music blaring through speakers, much to Sakura's relief, so they stood in silence. She caught Gaara watching her a few times until she finally looked over at him.

"I'm not angry with you so stop acting like I'm going to cut off your head," she said with a cold little laugh. Before Gaara could respond, there was a little chime as the elevator came to a halt. When the doors slid open, a solid wall of sound assaulted them. A unanimous roar blasted into their ears. There was a cacophony of flashing and shouting that disoriented Gaara enough that Sakura was forced to take his hand to lead him quickly across the concrete floors. Everything from the ceilings to the floor was made of hard stone. There were drains spaced every few yards on the ground along with fresh water stains from where someone had hosed off spots of blood. The place was built like an amphitheater with rows upon rows of seats stacked in an elliptical shape. The stands were packed with spectators; so many that sometimes even Sakura wondered where these sick people had crawled out from. The path they were on ran behind the actual stands that was patrolled by men of varying degrees of musculature all clad in black leather jackets.

A tall man with bright orange hair stalked up to them with fierce steps. Gaara moved to shield Sakura but she simply tightened her hold on his hand, signaling him to stay still.

"Haruno-sama. What an honor," he said in a deep voice when he stopped in front of her. He bowed until his torso was almost parallel to the ground. When he straightened, his dark eyes narrowed on Gaara.

"Relax, Juugo. This one's with me," Sakura said, pointing to her own left ear. Juugo stared at Gaara's earring for a long time before he finally grunted his approval.

"The usual box? Are you hunting tonight?" Juugo asked as he guided them through a tall archway. Ignoring the stone steps that led to the regular seats, Juugo walked until he came to a glass door flanked by two more guards. At Sakura's nod, the guards parted and allowed her passage. Sakura took Gaara's hand again as they began climbing a series of intricate stairs that went up and down in almost dizzying patterns.

"Why am I here?" Gaara demanded in a quiet voice. A smile crept up on Sakura's lips as she pulled Gaara closer by the hand.

"You heard him. I'm hunting for fresh bodies before Orochimaru gets to them. He specializes in snatching up the orphans," Sakura replied just as they came upon a thick metal door. Juugo stared into a small panel that scanned his retina before the door creaked open.

"Please enjoy yourself, Haruno-sama," Juugo said with another bow.

Sakura walked into the VIP box to a set of shocked gazes. She recognized a few politicians and a few big-time yakuza lords but didn't say anything to greet them. Instead, she made her way to the front row which remained untouched. When she settled into the plush seat in the middle of the row, Gaara glared around the room once before sitting to her right.

"And to think. If Kabuto hadn't shot my father, I might still be down there," Sakura remarked with a scoff. She kept her eyes trained on the arena below even when she felt Gaara staring at her.

"You'd still be doing this? Wouldn't you be working under Danzo?" he asked as two new fighters his way into the middle of the ring, prompting a fresh wave of roaring. Entry to these fights took either a lot of money or the right connections in the underground. Everyone packed into the stands was either filthy rich, ridiculously poor or outrageously corrupt. Sakura's eyes barely flitted over some of the familiar faces in the audience before she looked back down at the bare-chested men getting into their fighting stances.

"That bastard didn't give me a cent after I turned 10. I moved out of his house when I turned 14. There was no other way for me to make money without whoring myself out. Once he heard that I was bringing in some serious cash, he started hiring me to do hits, scout out new bodies at fights like this," she as she looked at Gaara.

"And there's no point in watching this one. The one on the right's going to destroy the other one," Sakura declared with a smirk, as if it were her winning instead. She was right, of course. She was always right about these things. She had to be. If not, Danzo would have easily had her eliminated. Five minutes in, the one on the left had a bloody right eye and a dislocated jaw before his opponent grabbed his arm and pressed his foot to his shoulder blade, pulling until a bloodcurdling shriek filled the arena, only to be drowned out with shouts of approval.

"That one?" Gaara inquired, jerking his chin toward the victor pumping his fist into the air.

"Too proud. I need one that's more broken," she said, shaking her head.

"That's why I never took you to Danzo. You were always too proud," Sakura added, almost as an afterthought.

They sat through two more brutal competitions, watching as the last one ended in both fighters being dragged off by their ankles. As they waited for the new rotation, Sakura glanced in Gaara's direction. She leaned toward him, dipping her head like she was going to kiss him. Her mouth ghosted over his, lips barely brushing as she whispered.

"That man sitting just behind us. Recognize him?" Gaara easily took her cue, threading his fingers into her hair. He skimmed his mouth along the nape of her neck while turning his head. She couldn't help but smile a little when she felt his fingers tighten.

"Copycat," he murmured against her jaw.

"Uh-huh. He's been freelancing as a bounty hunter ever since Danzo fell. I've been keeping an eye on him for a while," she said in a barely audible voice.

"Is that why we're here?"

At his question, Sakura pulled away from him, her mouth pulling up into a smile that easily answered.

After the next match was over, with half of the crowd booing as the victor limped off, leaving most of them much poorer, Sakura turned in her seat.

"Look at you, Mr. High Roller. What did you do to get a seat here? Behead a politician?" Sakura said, raising an eyebrow. Hatake Kakashi's face was mostly obscured by his eye patch and the thick black scarf covering his mouth and nose. She sometimes wondered why he even bothered. His silver hair made him easily recognizable anyway. 10 years ago, she hadn't realized that the man who had been revered as the master assassin would end up being in hiding as a simple high school teacher. He had done a surprisingly good job, keeping hidden from Danzo. There were rumors that Danzo had been after Kakashi's head and somehow Sakura was inclined to believe that.

"Two, actually," Kakashi drawled back in response. He dipped his head in a bow before his visible eye drifted over to Gaara.

"How does a yakuza-turned-teacher-turned-yakuza end up here?" Sakura demanded, drawing his attention again.

"Why does our little empress want to know?" he queried in response.

"Interested in buying a mansion or two?' Sakura asked as she tossed him something. Kakashi easily caught it before he examined the small metal earring with a black spider pressed into the center. He stared down at her, undoubtedly understanding but silently debating whether or not he would accept. When Sakura smiled, he closed his fingers over it and bowed.

"I need you to find me Hyuuga Neji," Sakura said, her eyes falling on Gaara who suddenly tensed. Her fingers running lightly over the back of his hand were a warning not to lose his temper. Kakashi exhaled deeply, scratching the back of his head.

"I don't know, Hime. That'll be a toughie. I know where the Hyuuga kid is. But he's not exactly easy to reach," Kakashi sighed. Though Sakura's smile widened, the ice in her eyes was more than enough of a threat for Kakashi.

"Alright. You'll hear from me in a bit," he relented. Nodding, Sakura got to her feet. She didn't protest when she felt Gaara rise too and then slip his hand around her waist. In fact, she smiled coyly as she let him pull her against his chest. Ignoring the curious eyes following them, Sakura turned her back to the fight below and motioned for one of the guards standing motionlessly by the door. Stony-faced, he made his way over to her, putting his arms behind his back.

"Give this to the winner of this match. And tell him to come find me if he wants to leave hell," she whispered as she slipped a blank envelope into his hand.

"You didn't even look at either of them," Gaara whispered as she left the VIP box.

"You're right. I didn't. I felt them. One of them was using chakra," she responded with a smile.

* * *

Itachi and Sasuke were already waiting when Sakura and Gaara left the restaurant. As Sakura climbed into the car, she let her hand glide over Gaara's arm. His green eyes were fixated on her during the whole ride to Madara's apartment. It was in the tallest tower in the center of the city. The large windows seemed to taunt, as if he were daring anybody to break into his place when it was so ridiculously easy to do so. When the car pulled up in front of the complex, a valet immediately appeared. Itachi's silent glare was more than enough to assure that the young man would do his job properly.

Hidan walked up to them just moments later, his helmet dangling from his fingers. He flung it at the unsuspecting valet who fumbled and nearly dropped it. Sneering, Hidan turned to Sakura.

"I don't care what you say, Hime. If this shithead pisses me off, I'll fucking crack his skull open," Hidan practically cackled with glee. Sakura huffed.

"Well at least _try_ to restrain yourself, Hidan," she sighed as she motioned toward Itachi who pulled a box of cigarettes out of his pocket. She shook her head so he fished out another box, a blue one with the French name she had avoided for so long.

"Does this mean you're back to the Gauloises, Sakura?" Itachi asked as he held out the box to her. A smirk curled Sakura's red lips as she took a cigarette and waited for Itachi to light it. She took her time sucking in a deep breath and letting blue-grey smoke seep out the corners of her mouth.

"Maybe," she simply said, glancing toward Gaara.

The doorman greeted them politely as he let them pass. The receptionist in the lobby didn't glance up, obviously trained to recognize the faces of the people capable of killing him. It was just the hollow click of Sakura's shoes and the sound of Hidan popping his knuckles as he anticipated getting to punch at least one person in the face. When they got on the elevator, Itachi's eyes turned red as he glanced up.

"Cameras and bugs. Anything you'd like to say to Madara-san, Sakura?"

Sakura looked at the corner and found a small, barely noticeable circle of a lens. She waved, waggling her fingers before she took her cigarette and mashed it against the glass, coating it with ash.

On the 52nd floor, the elevator came to a halt. Sakura saw Itachi and Hidan's hands slip into their jackets, resting on the guns that all the members of Akatsuki had just in case of an emergency. They rarely used them. Hidan preferred punching people in the nose or ripping them open with the extendable scythe tucked away in its holster under his jacket. Itachi was a fan of swords, like her, and his favorite katana was strapped to his back. He hadn't bothered to hide his, sending out a clear message to whoever was watching. Sasuke wasn't armed at all, even though she had arranged for him to get a gun. She had a feeling he would be effective without it if his skills had gotten as good as she had heard.

Gaara's glare was enough to murder the weak-hearted.

As the doors slid open, Sakura let a cold smile appear on her face.

"Kabuto-kun. Good to see you," she said.

"Motherfucker," Hidan spat.

Yakushi Kabuto stood in front of them, his glasses glinting proudly. He was wearing an expensive suit and the jagged scar marring his face had smoothed out into a barely discernable pink line. It no longer looked like he was sneering all the time from the tilt of his lips. Instead, it looked like he was sneering of his own volition. It was most likely Orochimaru's work.

"I'd heard some unfriendly rumors about you but now this just breaks my heart," she sighed, brushing past him.

"And if you pull that trigger, I'm sure even your dear Orochimaru won't be happy with you," Sakura added when she heard a faint click. As she spoke, Itachi drew his sword, pressing the sharp blade against Kabuto's throat. Kabuto let out a rather unconvincing laugh as he pulled his hand from his pocket to jam his gun back into its holster.

"Observant as always, Hime-" Kabuto commented, only to be interrupted by Hidan's hand lashing out to grab him by the throat.

"Don't talk to her, you piece of shit," Hidan growled, slamming Kabuto against the wall once for good measure before he stalked past him.

The wide hallway with plush red carpet and gaudy golden walls would only fit someone as vain and arrogant as Madara. Sakura scoffed at the portraits of himself lining the walls, each in an equally luxurious golden frame that had probably cost more than the paintings themselves. When they reached the end of the hall where two glass double doors with frosted panes waited, Sakura hesitated for a moment. She closed her eyes to take a deep, calming breath before she nodded to the guards standing outside and let them pull the doors outward.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked in a deceptively sweet voice when she recognized the long, inky hair spilling down the back of the sofa. At her words, Madara, who had been standing at the window, turned to look at her, a glass of amber liquid held in his right hand.

"Ah, Hime, you're here! Marvelous," Madara greeted her as he crossed the room. His shoes clicked against the black tile, bouncing off the stone walls when he approached. The pleasant smile gracing Madara's lips faltered a little when he saw Hidan's scythe extending over Sakura's right shoulder, the point hovering just a fraction of an inch away from his throat. Sakura looked over at Hidan slowly, almost leisurely.

"You wouldn't want to get your blade dull for nothing, Hidan," Sakura softly said, touching the inside of his elbow. A low snarl rose in the back of his throat even as he slowly lowered his arm.

"Good control over your little guard dogs, I see," Madara said with a smirk.

"Please don't provoke, Hidan. His temper is almost as foul as mine," Sakura addressed Madara as she squeezed Hidan's arm in a silent warning. So though Hidan's stance remained stiff and angry, he didn't draw his weapon again. Sakura took a few steps forward to meet Madara.

Madara proclaimed to be turning 35 every year. The fact that he looked exactly 35 every single year was more than enough to keep everyone else's mouths shut. He had the same dark eyes and pale skin that all Uchiha men seemed to possess. The proud tilt of his head and the arrogant curve of his smirk were unchanging. Still, when she tilted her head back and presented him with her right hand, Madara's mouth stretched into a delighted grin.

"Beautiful as always, little Hime," he remarked before he dipped his head to kiss the back of her hand.

"Bold as always, Madara," Sakura sighed in response, reclaiming her hand from him. Then, slowly looking over at the couch, like she hadn't noticed him before, she barely lifted her eyebrows.

"Orochimaru," she said.

"Looking lovely today, Hime," Orochimaru hissed in his slimy voice that made gooseflesh rise on her arms. A smirk curled her mouth when she saw Orochimaru's eyes trail over to the people she had brought along with her. His golden eyes narrowed before they drifted back to her.

"Looks like you're starting a collection of Uchiha boys," he remarked. Sakura smiled with her mouth before she settled on the sofa across from him. Hidan stayed near the door, his violet eyes darting angrily between Kabuto and Orochimaru and Madara. Sasuke stayed near him, his wary gaze flickering to Madara several times. It was Itachi and Gaara who drifted over to the sofa too, standing behind her like two disapproving statues. Kabuto had the audacity to take a seat beside Orochimaru.

"I was under the impression that this world be a private talk between old friends, Madara," Sakura lightly began, tapping her pointer finger against her knee. Madara turned around to face her.

"But this is, little Hime. We've known each other for years and you've known Orochimaru for quite some time as well," Madara replied before he drained his glass.

"Do I look to be in a humorous mood, Madara?" Her words were a sharp jab aimed directly between his ribs. Sakura almost laughed when she saw the smile slip straight off his face.

"Ah, still so cruel, Hime? I was rather hoping this would be a pleasant little chat. Maybe some tea and finger sandwiches?" Madara sighed.

"You know quite well, Madara. Our Hime is the impatient type. But I think I will stay for a while. It seems Hime has something very important to discuss with you and you know how I love a juicy piece of gossip," Orochimaru cut in with his usual slimy tone that made Sakura want to go take a shower after hearing it. For just an instant, Sakura's control faltered and the smooth look of apathy warped into a glower. Even though it had just been for a moment, Orochimaru's eyes widened with glee. The old snake never missed a thing. The sight of his disgustingly long tongue slithering out to wet his lips made her desperately want to shove her katana down his throat just to watch blood spray from his gurgling mouth.

"Well, Hime, feel free to speak. It's been a while since we've sat down for a nice talk," Madara finally said, turning back to the window. Orochimaru's stare was fixed on her in a way that made her skin crawl. She knew about obsession with young, supple bodies and she was old enough to recognize the predatory glint in his yellow gaze. She knew Gaara noticed it too because his fingers began softly trailing down the side of her throat, just barely tickling her skin.

"I just wanted to catch up with you, Madara. As you've said, we've known each other for so long but lately I feel as if we've become strangers," Sakura began in such a pleasant tone that if it weren't for all the animosity crackling in the room, it would have seemed that they were indeed the best of friends. When Kabuto opened his mouth to speak, a knife whizzed through the air and lodged itself in the sofa, dangerously close to where Kabuto's throat was.

"I thought you were keeping a leash on your little guard dogs, Hime," Madara sighed, glancing back to look at the damage done to his furniture. In response, Sakura pulled up the edge of her dress to reveal a holster strapped around her right thigh that held about five more knives. Before Orochimaru could start trying to see what color her underwear was, Sakura pulled the hem back down and smile icily in his direction.

"It seems you've come to us in a rather unpleasant mood. Perhaps a drink to calm you?" Madara suggested. When he raised his hand to gesture to the bottle of brandy sitting on his desk, Sakura smirked.

"Madara, do you believe that I'm stupid enough to accept any kind of drink from you? No doubt it's laced with the drugs guaranteeing the most painful and drawn-out death possible," she scoffed. Madara's shoulders moved up and down in a silent chuckle.

"You're too clever for me. It's a fine blend of rat poison, white oleander and some antifreeze to sweeten the liquor. But if you were the type to be fooled by such a childish trick, I would have been able to eliminate you years ago," said Madara.

"I know. But back to the matter at hand, it hurts me that you would take Orochimaru's side over mine, Madara. After all, who was it that eliminated the previous Mizukage to allow you to take power? And who is it that saved your ass from debt when the bubble burst a few years back?" Sakura listed off in a voice dripping with honey. Orochimaru's gaze flew to Madara's silent back.

"Now I'm not suggesting we hurt our dear companion Orochimaru. But I'm merely asking that you consider our years of….friendship, Madara," Sakura continued, pretending not to see Orochimaru begin to fidget a little. When he looked at her, Sakura flashed a smile, baring stark white teeth that clashed against bright red lipstick.

"You do make a compelling argument, my dear. But as you know, I'm a man of opportunity. A few favors in the past won't do me much good now," Madara replied.

"You wouldn't be much of a man without those 'few favors', sweetheart," Sakura reminded him in a light voice. Their words, so innocent and soft, were actually swords clashing. Silent threats and quiet promises of death were laced in between each syllable. After a lengthy pause, Madara turned around to look at her. His eyes flashed a menacing shade of crimson for an instant before his expression settled into a leisurely smile.

"Cruel yet true. Remind me, dear. What is your goal in doing all of this?" he inquired

A chilling smile pulled at Sakura's lips.

"Don't you remember, my good friend? To raze everything to the ground," she sighed in response. After a small pause, she looked up at Orochimaru through her mascara-darkened lashes.

"That includes you, of course," Sakura added with a smile made from ice.

"I'm afraid that I can't let you do something like that, Hime," Kabuto remarked. No one had been paying much attention to him. Sakura heard the click and the deafening bang. Powder exploded, the smell of burning and metal filled the air. Before she could fling herself out of the way, the sickening odor of raw, burning flesh reached her nostrils. She blinked and then she could no longer see Kabuto's leer.

All she saw was beautiful, blazing red in front of her. Her addled brain needed an extra second to process things.

Kabuto had shot her.

Gaara had moved in front of her.

…

Gaara.

And Gaara toppled backwards into her lap. Warmth seeped into her dress, soaking her thighs in the unmistakable stench of blood.

"You mother-"

Before Hidan had time to finish his swear, Sakura launched herself forward, outstretched hands stretched into claws aimed at Kabuto's smug face. There was a sick sense of satisfaction as she watched panic light up in his cold eyes. Pain vaguely registered in her right palm when Kabuto panicked and pulled the trigger again. With her own blood splattering her face, Sakura grabbed hold of the still-warm gun and wrenched it out of Kabuto's fingers, flinging it carelessly across the room. A cruel leer stretched Sakura's mouth as she stared into Kabuto's petrified expression. Her fingers closed around Kabuto's upper arm.

"I thought I made it quite clear. Don't touch what's mine," she hissed before she pulled, listening to the sick twist and squelch of tendons and muscles pulling apart. With a resounding crack, Sakura ripped Kabuto's arm clean off. The shrill screech of sheer agony bursting from Kabuto's mouth wasn't enough to satisfy her. Throwing Kabuto's bloodied arm into Orchimaru's lap, Sakura planted her knees between Kabuto's legs and closed her fingers around his throat. Fresh blood welled up around her fingertips when they began digging into the soft flesh around bone.

"Eyesore," Sakura said with a little laugh before she twisted Kabuto's head around. The crunch of his spine breaking was almost as satisfying as feeling his pulse still underneath her palms. Taking a deep breath through her nose, Sakura let Kabuto's body fall unceremoniously to the floor. She barely spared Orochimaru a glance though he seemed mostly intrigued by the severed arm still splayed across his legs.

"Sasuke. Itachi," Sakura quietly said between deep breaths without looking back at Gaara. She slowly climbed off the couch, casually reaching down to straighten her dress as she did so. She walked over to the window where Madara stood watching her a mixture of horror and curiosity. Winding her arms around his neck, Sakura pressed her body against his. She smirked when she felt the hard jut of his erection nudging her thigh. So the rumors were true about Madara's fetish for violence.

"This happened on your grounds, love. I won't forget," Sakura remarked in a breathy voice before she ran her bloody hands down the front of his crisp shirt, smearing dark red across the fabric. Grinning, she looked down at her right palm and closed her teeth around the protruding end of the bullet. When she pulled it from her flesh and a dark trickle of blood trailed down her wrist, she could feel Madara's greedy gaze focused on her. She spat it unceremoniously onto the ground, ignoring the natural urge to channel chakra to it to regenerate the dead cells.

"Good day to you," she murmured before she let Hidan open the door and they quietly left the room that stank of blood and bile.

The silent car ride was only punctuated by Sakura's instructions to return to the mansion. Her sharp tone made Itachi eye her once in the mirror without saying anything. Gaara was sprawled across the backseat, his clammy face pressed against Sakura's blood-streaked thighs. She pressed her injured palm to the side of his neck to make sure she could still feel his frantic pulse. Though there wasn't much healing she could do without extracting the bullet, Sakura channeled enough of her chakra to his stomach to stem the worst of the arterial bleeding and to make sure the stomach didn't rupture and spill acid into the rest of his organs.

Sakura did nothing more than direct Sasuke and Itachi to put Gaara in her bed. They quickly left, Itachi not even daring to try to speak to her. Blood had dried all over her face and arms and the sight of her ripping someone's arm clean off had been a reminder that she wasn't nearly as delicate as she appeared. Hidan lingered in front of her, his violet eyes raking over the mess splattered all over her. He carefully took her right hand, raising it to his mouth to kiss her open wound. She watched him with a weary expression when he licked his lower lip while straightening.

"You're a sadist, right? I bet this is a major turn-on for you," she commented in a sharp way meant to drive him off. Hidan looked surprisingly solemn as he stared brazenly into her eyes.

"Good night, Hime," he replied before he left her in the silence she had wished for all day.

Gaara was mostly unconscious from blood loss by the time Sakura was able to sterilize a pair of tweezers to pluck the bullet lodged into his abdomen out. Closing up the ruptured blood vessels and repairing the torn flesh was a simple matter. She lingered at his side for a while, tracing the tense line of his brow and the hard clench of his jaw.

"You're a fool. I don't deserve to be protected," she whispered before she got to her feet. In her bloody and wrinkled clothes, Sakura wrapped her favorite silk robe around her shoulders without bothering to tie the belt or to pull her arms through the sleeves. Barefoot, she travelled down the hallway and up the stairs to the third floor. The usual nurse was just exiting the room and she let out a small shriek when she saw Sakura slowly making her way toward her.

"Leave us," Sakura ordered. Before she could finish speaking, the terrified nurse was half-running, half-tripping to get away. Sakura hesitated, her fingers resting on the cold doorknob for a few seconds before she could will herself to open the door at all.

Danzo's eyes were wide open. And it wasn't just one of the phantom reflexes that doctors always assured her did not prove that Danzo would ever regain consciousness. His gaze tracked her all the way from the door to when she took a seat the wooden chair left at his bedside. Sakura stared into his dark eyes that had started to grow filmy from cataracts. His chapped lips moved around the large breathing tube jammed down his throat for a while before Sakura let out a deep sigh and forced his head back so she could slide it out.

The wheeze of his first unaided breath in 10 years sounded like a dying animal's last noise. Sakura sat, stony-faced, as she watched Danzo struggle to sit up. But his spindly arms were atrophied and useless. Taking in another rattling gasp, Danzo sank back into the pillows and instead turned his head to Sakura.

"Aiko," he murmured.

It took every bit of restraint she had not to smash her still-bleeding palm into Danzo's mouth when he reached out with papery hands to touch her forearm. Sakura forced herself to remain stiff and mute.

"Aiko, you've come back to me," he croaked, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Sakura saw complete red for an instant.

"Aiko, I've had so much to say to you. Aiko. Aiko. Aiko," Danzo mumbled, his eyes wandering around the room as her name died on his lips.

"You abandoned me," Sakura finally said. She didn't know whether she was speaking as her mother or as herself. She supposed it worked in both scenarios. The lover left by herself and the child rejected by both parents.

"No, Aiko. You ran from me. I was the one left behind," Danzo rasped out. But Sakura's silence seemed to spur him on.

"I knew where you were, Aiko. I let you run. Because that was what you wanted. I let you run away from me," Danzo went on. Sakura jerked her arm away from his hand and instead let it fall into her lap.

"Why won't you believe me, Aiko? I love you. I loved you and I love you. Aiko," he rasped in a sickening voice that made her want to scream. Swallowing down the disgust rising in the back of her throat, Sakura forced herself to stare into her father's face.

"The girl. What about your daughter?" she demanded. The soft smile that stretched his wrinkled mouth made her shudder. She had never once seen such a tender look on his face. It was horrific and twisted and wrong but so natural.

"Our daughter. Aiko, she looks just like you. She sounds just like you, acts just like you," Danzo sighed.

"You hate her," Sakura said. It wasn't a question. She had always known. Her father's cold distance, his condemning silences.

"Are you punishing me, Aiko? Is this your revenge? To leave me a copy of you? She's so much like you and she's so precious," Danzo went on like he couldn't hear her. Sakura frowned. The most remotely encouraging thing Danzo had ever told her was that her grades in middle school prevented her from shaming the family. The very idea that Danzo wasn't utterly repulsed by her was an anomaly at best.

"But I was greedy. She was smiling at that despicable boy and it made me sick. I could feel him stealing her away. So I got rid of him instead, disowned him and rejected him."

Sakura's heart stopped for an instant.

"Who?" she whispered even though she already knew the answer.

"My son. Deidara."

As Danzo rambled on, Sakura felt the missing parts of her life click into place. The hollow bitterness that lingered in her chest after so many years suddenly felt useless. She hadn't been thrown away? Was this why she had coldly pushed Deidara, the only person who might have loved her unconditionally, out of her life countless times? Because her father was a sick freak who couldn't tell the difference between his lover and his child?

"You monster," Sakura managed to breathe out.

"No. It's because I love you. Because I love you, Aiko. I won't let anyone else have you," Danzo replied with a glazed, empty smile.

"You stole everything from me, you selfish bastard," Sakura flatly said before she closed her hands around Danzo's throat and squeezed the frantic pound of a pulse beneath her hand slowed to a sluggish rhythm. Pulling her lips back in a sneer, Sakura let him flop easily back onto the pillows. His shallow breathing meant that he hadn't quite died yet. Danzo had always been that way- greedily clinging to life at any cost. So Sakura felt no regret when she plunged her thumbs into his eye sockets and ripped his eyes out. Hot blood gushed into her palms, splattering her face and throat. Even the strangled wheeze of his scream was barely there. He was so close, refusing to teeter over, refusing to leave her in peace.

"There's no room in my life for ghosts," Sakura whispered as she crushed the gelatinous eyeballs in her palms. She put one hand on his temple and the other on his chin to snap his head to the side. The satisfying crack of his spine separating from his skull was the only comfort she had in that blood-stained room anyway.

* * *

Gaara woke because there was a weight on his chest. The smell of death assaulted his nostrils and he instinctively grabbed for Sakura's arm. There was something so wrong with the way she was breathing. When his fingers circled around her, he couldn't tell if it was her arm or her leg. She was all lean muscle and flesh and bone and regret.

"What the fuck happened to you?" he hissed as soon as his eyes opened. Jackson Pollack would have creamed himself at the sight in front of him. Her face was spattered with fresh blood while her legs and chest were covered in rusty brown. Everything from her slender fingertips to her elbows was drenched in red. The robe she loved so much was ruined, sprayed with dark liquid and something that looked suspiciously like chunks of flesh.

Sakura was sitting on his chest. Her eyes were slightly crazed, darting nervously from him to her hands and then to her legs. Taking in a shaky breath, she looked right at him. Her gaze locked with his and she gave him a shaky smile.

"Hey Gaara," she whispered in a tremulous voice. Gaara slowly raised his hands to rest them on her lower back to keep her from toppling over. She flinched from the contact but didn't try to move away.

"Hey. Hey…" Sakura said in a shaky tone.

"Do you know….the jail sentence for patricide?" she finally inquired. Gaara slowly shook his head. Sakura seemed to wilt a little, her warm fingers clenching and unclenching the front of his torn shirt.

"Oh. That's too bad. It feels like that's something I should know."

"Well…it's probably no different from the sentence for regular homicide," Gaara suggested in a raspy voice.

"Do you think the punishment in hell's any worse?" asked Sakura in a more normal voice. He barked out a harsh laugh.

"Either way. You and me have got VIP suites in that place," he snorted. To his surprise, a smile curled her mouth. She leaned down to press a cool kiss to just his lower lip.

"You're probably right," was her whispered reply. And the expression on her face made it look like her face was about to tear in two. Despite the throbbing pain still lingering in his stomach, Gaara reached up to cup her cheeks in his hands. She let him pull her down for a long kiss that tasted of blood and sweat. Even though she was smiling when she pulled away, something felt plastic about Sakura's expression. He ran his thumbs under her eyes, like he was wiping away invisible tears.

"One day, you're going to hate me," Sakura declared.

"I won't," Gaara sighed.

"I'll make sure you will," she insisted.

* * *

Gaara went back to sleep soon after. The blood loss had taken a lot out of him and Sakura had only had the energy to heal his wound about halfway. She sat at the edge of the bed, watching him. What kind of fool sacrificed a decade to look for a girl who claimed not to love him? Shaking her head, Sakura stood. A hiss escaped between her clenched teeth when she flexed her fingers and found that the bullet hole in her right palm hadn't even begun to close up. Blood dribbled out of the perfectly round space until she poured chakra into it and watched the muscles and nerves begin to tangle together before white skin closed over it.

"Your healing….is different."

Sakura looked up to see Itachi standing in the doorway. His sharingan was focused on her hand as the flesh bubbled and stretched back into its original shape.

That was strange. Normally Itachi walked into her room whenever and however he felt like it. Instead, he hovered like a stranger.

"You noticed," Sakura said with some surprise in response to his comment. When she spoke, she felt Gaara stir a little. They both looked down in time to see Gaara move his head off the pillow and into her lap. Itachi watched with a blank expression that not even Sakura could untangle after many years of knowing him.

"You're letting him get blood on your sheets. You hate that," Itachi observed in the same detached voice.

"He's different. And so is my chakra. I can't heal myself normally anymore," Sakura murmured, running her finger down Gaara's cheek. A little bit of blood that hadn't quite dried smeared against his skin.

"Why?" Itachi demanded, his voice growing sharp with concern.

"I don't know. But my body can't heal. It only regenerates," Sakura sighed, rubbing at the tender spot in her palm.

"Would that make much of a difference?" he asked with obvious confusion.

"Healing means that damaged cells are returned to their original state. Regeneration means that they're forced to grow again. It speeds up the process of cellular death," Sakura explained as she stretched her right palm a couple times by flexing her fingers.

"So… would continual healing mean that your lifespan would be shortened?" Itachi guessed. A small smile pulled at the right corner of her mouth.

"I'd say I have close to two years left? I've done a lot of fighting and fixing myself," Sakura guessed.

"But you already knew that, Itachi," Sakura added when Itachi's expression remained unchanged. Undoubtedly Itachi had seen all her medical files. He probably knew more about her condition than she did. Before she could ask why he was bringing this up again, she realized where his stare was trained. Taking a deep breath, Sakura looked down at her lap. Gaara's eyes were wide open, drilling into her with such intensity that they looked ready to leap out of his skull.

"Two years," Sakura whispered, running her thumb down his cheek where blood had dried.

"Two."

* * *

_You hear about kids in the news that play one violent video game and decide they're going to kill their parents._

_They won't understand what it's like to smell it afterwards. All blood isn't the same. The smell of a little cut treated with a bandage is different from the smell of death that crawls into your nose after someone's heart stops. It's unbearable._

_Bittersweet._

_For years, he had hovered over me. Filling every moment of my life with terror and loneliness._

_I should have been happy to have the disgusting odor in my nose, in my mouth._

_But all I could smell was sadness._


End file.
